An Alternative State of Mentality
by inukagome15
Summary: Sequel to "A State of Mental Extremes". Tony Stark does not have time for this garbage. Someone outed his secret to the public. No, not the one where he's dating Steve. Yes, the one where he's a mutant. Yes, he's mad. Yes, his life sucks. What else is new? Oh, hi, Extremis.
1. Part I

**The author apologizes for the unexpected delay in the next ride of _It's All in the Mind_. There were unexpected engineering problems that required urgent care before takeoff could be achieved. The author was unable to remove the large beehive in the middle of the vehicle, but please don't panic. If you are allergic to bees, please reconsider taking this ride. Otherwise, sit back and enjoy. Please ensure that your seat belts are buckled and that your heads, arms, and legs remain inside the ride at all times.**

**It's All in the Mind: **Tony is 100% normal. Tony is not a mutant. Tony is Iron Man. Tony is an Avenger. Tony...is just fooling himself.**  
**

**Telekinesis 101 (Or A Guide to Readjusting Perceptions): **Tony is a mutant. Tony is Iron Man. Tony is an Avenger. Tony…has some unresolved issues. Namely, the problem called Steve. Or maybe his overactive brain. Pick either.**  
**

**Telekinesis for Dummies:** Tony is not an idiot. Tony built the arc reactor in a cave with a box of scraps. Tony built Iron Man with cannibalized weapons. Tony is a bona fide genius. Tony…can admit that even geniuses need help, especially when it comes from the X-Men.

**A State of Mental Extremes**: Tony is protective of his own. The Avengers are off limits to Fury and his lackeys. But maybe he should be more concerned with his own safety. Oops.

**An Alternative State of Mentality**: Tony Stark does not have time for this junk. Someone outed his secret to the public. No, not the one where he's dating Steve. Yes, the one where he's a mutant. Yes, he's mad. Yes, his life sucks. What else is new? Oh, hi, Extremis.

**DISCLAIMER: The author does not own any of the franchises included.**

* * *

**An Alternative State of Mentality**

**Part I**

* * *

Tony had dealt with a lot of shit in his life. First, there was the fact that during his more formative years he was basically a little doll to be paraded around and admired because of his genius and the way he would be "just like his father" (yeah, screw you, by the way; he was _nothing_ like him). Second, there was how he turned out to be a mutant and Howard didn't like that. Third, there was Afghanistan and being screwed over by Obadiah Stane (maybe that should be a fourth?). Fourth (or fifth), there was Fury's shit and what he'd done to Tony and his team. Fifth (sixth), there was Extremis.

Ah…Extremis. The current bane of Tony's existence.

But before he got around to that, he should consider all the good things he had in his life.

First, there was JARVIS, his own creation. Second, there was Pepper Potts. Third, there was Rhodey. Fourth, there was Iron Man. Fifth, there was the Avengers. Sixth…was Steve.

Okay, so maybe his life was sort of equal on the good things versus bad, but that didn't erase the fact that Extremis was worth five negative points by itself.

_He was a fucking computer_.

He might have idly considered what it would be like to be a computer, but he'd never thought that would actually happen. And yet, hey! Here he was with a computer for a brain and a completely new DNA map that he had yet to look at. Fun times, really.

Yet there was Steve, who was worth several positive points (he wasn't sure how many) to himself as well. Steve, who didn't deserve having a messed up Tony as a partner. Steve, who didn't _want_ anyone else. And despite Tony's reservations, he couldn't take Steve's choice away from him. He wasn't going to question his good fortune, but he'd hold onto it with everything he had.

So, to summarize, Tony had dealt with a lot of shit in his life. But he'd also had some good stuff happen to him. He supposed that was all that mattered in the end, really.

Anything else was secondary. Including the enormous cluster fuck that happened after he got Extremis…

* * *

When the Quinjet eventually touched down on the Helicarrier (after some protesting from Clint and Natasha and even Thor), the flight deck was empty. Clint opened the door to let them out, pausing at the top to look back at Tony, who stood right next to Steve.

"For the record," Clint said, "I'm against this."

"As am I," Natasha said, moving to stand by Clint.

"Noted," Tony acknowledged, nodding curtly. "But this is something we have to do. Let me do the talking."

"You sure?" Bruce asked.

"He can do it," Steve said, his warm and steady confidence lending Tony strength.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s personnel is still locked within the Helicarrier," JARVIS said. "I shall direct you to Director Fury's location."

"Thanks, JARVIS." Tony glanced back at Spider-Man, still flanking Hansen with Thor. "Spider-Man, you'd better come with. I'll get that problem of yours taken care of."

"If you're sure," Spider-Man demurred.

"Absolutely." Tony nodded at Thor, signaling he should go first with Hansen.

The god of thunder put a hand on Hansen's shoulder, pushing her forward. He led the way down the ramp, followed closely by Clint and Natasha.

"Let's go," Steve told Tony quietly, squeezing his elbow. "I'd like to get you out of those clothes. The color really doesn't suit you."

Tony was startled into a wry grin. "I always thought a puke orange color looked absolutely smashing on me."

"It really doesn't," Bruce said dryly, going with Spider-Man.

Tony took the brief moment with Steve to fortify himself, almost flinching as Extremis roared back into life as he stretched out to the Helicarrier. He'd simply meant to check its working condition by listening to the humming, but apparently that _would_ result in Extremis starting up again.

He could feel JARVIS humming throughout it, integrated into every single system. It was reassuring in a way, as Tony could ground himself in the familiar feeling.

"All right?" Steve asked, watching him.

"Let's see." Tony smiled once, briefly, dropping it before he revealed his nervousness.

He walked off the Quinjet far more confidently than he felt. Undoubtedly, he looked completely ridiculous, what with the filched A.I.M. outfit and the completely mismatched shoes Bruce had found for him in the Quinjet, but it was the impression his body language gave off that mattered. Whatever he felt inwardly didn't matter, as long as he kept it together long enough to tell Fury what he needed to.

True to his word, JARVIS led Tony and the people following him directly to Fury, who was in a debriefing room. He was kept company by Maria Hill and two other men in suits. They were currently bent over the table, discussing something – probably how to get out considering JARVIS was owning their asses.

Rapping against the bulletproof glass of the door, Tony plastered a lazy grin on his face as Fury looked up at him, narrowing his eye.

Linking into Extremis, Tony reached for the intercom in the room, speaking aloud so everyone else could hear him. "Hi, sweetheart. I'd ask if you'd missed me, but I think that's rather obvious."

"_Stark,_" Fury snapped.

"Can he hear you?" Natasha murmured.

Tony tapped his temple in answer, not taking his eyes off Fury. "That's me." His voice hardened. "Why don't we talk? I'm sure a room with a view would be better than this."

Disconnecting from the intercom, Tony stepped back as JARVIS opened the doors. Fury exited a moment later, eye scanning over Tony and then the others, resting momentarily on the figure of Spider-Man standing by Thor. After Fury came Hill and the two other men, who both seemed taken aback at the sight of the masked superhero.

Spider-Man shifted nervously, but didn't say anything. Tony simply gave a bland smile in Fury's direction as the director narrowed his eye dangerously, looking right at Tony.

"I didn't know you'd joined A.I.M.," Fury said coldly.

Tony shrugged. "What can I say? The fashion's awesome. But I resigned; they were a bit too crazy for my taste." He began walking, throwing over his shoulder, "Follow me, ladies and gents."

JARVIS obligingly opened the path for Tony until he reached a room on the side of the Helicarrier with windows to the outside. It gave him some room to breathe with the hum and chatter of technology all around him. If he really listened, he could even hear the programs JARVIS was running to take care of everything. And if he tried even harder, he could hear New York below him and beyond that, the rest of the world.

But he wasn't trying. Shutting it out, Tony refocused on the situation.

"So," he started, turning on his heel to face Fury. "Where should we start?"

The Avengers, Spider-Man, and Hansen remained in a group at the back wall, putting themselves between Fury and his subordinates, but not coming any closer. Only Thor and Hansen remained apart, staying on the fringes.

"Let me," Fury said, a muscle jumping in his cheek. "Why don't we start with the blatant disobedience of my team going after someone I _specifically told them_ was off limits."

Tony let out a short burst of laughter. "_Your_ team? Sorry to disappoint, but that's _my_ team you're talking about. Ours, to be more specific, because no one owns the Avengers."

"The Avengers are under the control of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Fury asserted, turning in a slow circle in order to follow Tony's figure as he walked to the windows.

Tony hummed in acknowledgment, snapping his fingers to let JARVIS know that he should pull up the interactive computer screens. The window obligingly lit up with the blue holographic screens. He flicked through the S.H.I.E.L.D. files, looking for a specific one.

"And then," Fury continued from behind Tony, his image in the reflective glare of the windows glaring at Tony, "there is the takeover attempt by a hostile force and the fact that the Helicarrier lost all power because _your_ lackey is controlling it."

"About that, sorry. Small accident on my part; won't happen again. Don't blame JARVIS. And second…" Tony snickered. "_Takeover attempt_? And who's hostile here? JARVIS?"

"I am unaware of any such hostile force, sir," JARVIS responded innocently. "I was simply allowing the Avengers to carry out their mission. If I had to prevent dissenters from following, I was only assuring the mission's success."

"See? No takeover attempt." Finding the file, Tony exploded its size for easier viewing. "The Avengers Initiative," he read, turning to the side to let Fury see. "It looks like we've all resigned."

True enough, all the names under the bold name of **The Avengers Initiative** had a RESIGNED stamped next to them.

Face carefully blank, Tony tapped the spot on the window next to that file. JARVIS opened another, this time with just **The Avengers** at the top.

"I hope you don't mind," Tony said, tucking one hand into the very large pocket provided by the A.I.M. uniform. "I took out the last part of the name"—he pointed with the other hand, tapping the name so it was highlighted—"because, you know, copyright issues."

Fury brushed past Tony, eye studying the two separate files. "You can't do this."

"Oh, but I just did."

"And what about the rest of the team?" Fury asked, turning to face the others. "Or did you just make this decision without considering anyone else?"

"He has our support," Steve said firmly, unflinchingly meeting Fury's eye.

"All right." Fury folded his arms against his chest, rocking back slightly. "And what about the rest of it, Stark? Who's going to feed you?"

"Stark Industries fully supports this endeavor," Tony said, not rising to the bait. He tilted his head up, smiling guilelessly. "Miss Potts is of the same opinion as me, you see."

"Which would be?"

Tony dropped the smile. "Let me spell this out for you. We are not your dogs. You can't just leash us up and release it when you feel like it."

"Then what are you?" Fury tilted an eyebrow up.

"I don't know. Wolves, maybe?" Tony glanced over the file on the now independent Avengers. "Any potentially vicious kind of animal that's in a pack." He tapped his name, bringing up his profile. "So maybe we're lions, but those are a bit too vicious. I suppose wolves it is." He smiled at Fury, the gesture not reaching his eyes.

"And Spider-Man," Tony said, looking down at his feet before flickering his eyes up, head still tilted downward. "You'll call your lapdogs off."

Fury didn't look back at said superhero. "He's independent."

"Is he?" Tony tapped on the window next to the open file, swiping his fingers towards it. A new name blinked into existence, highlighted on the file. "Oh, look at that. He's an Avenger." He looked up at Fury. "You know what that means. Bother him again and you'll have me to deal with. And if you don't want JARVIS after you, you really don't want me after your head. Clear?"

Fury worked his jaw for a moment, staring Tony down. Tony didn't back down, staring unblinkingly back.

"Crystal," he said finally.

Tony relaxed, his smile amiable now. "All right. Now, Dr. Hansen"—this time Fury looked back at where Hansen was standing by Thor—"I'm sure you know that Extremis is her brainchild. You can't have it."

Fury opened his mouth, but Tony was already continuing, "But you can have her as a gesture of our goodwill. She'll be our prisoner, but you can hold her where you want to. I don't want us to be enemies, Fury. We've had our misunderstandings, but I'm sure you know that it's a waste of our time and energy to fight each other. As a team, we can't work under you. But I'm sure we could work something out as equals. What do you think?"

This time it didn't take Fury that long to respond. A small smirk curved at his lips. "You're a son of a bitch, Stark. But fine. We'll work together."

Tony stuck a hand out, raising an eyebrow when Fury didn't immediately take it. It was taken a moment later, Fury gripping it tightly to shake once.

"I'll have a contract drawn up," Tony said, drawing his hand back into the humongous pocket. "You can look it over before we sign."

"Fine." Fury stepped back, watching Tony turn off the holograms with a swiping downward motion of his hand; they slid down to the floor, blinking out of existence. "Now get changed out of that god awful outfit."

Tony grinned, eyes crinkling. "Sure, honey." He walked over to Steve, nodding slightly to Thor, who handed Hansen off to one of the guys who had been after Spider-Man.

They were just about to leave the room when Fury's voice stopped them. "What happened, Stark?"

Tony glanced back. "Not your dog, Fury. See ya." He lifted a hand in farewell. When it dropped, the doors slid closed behind him, leaving Fury – S.H.I.E.L.D. – behind.

* * *

They ended up taking the Quinjet back to the mansion with them, considering it was technically Avengers' property (and Tony's), and they would need a ride to get to their future non-S.H.I.E.L.D. directed assignments. It was parked in the backyard, but Tony wouldn't get any calls from the Homeowners Association about defiling the scenery because of the greenery in the back obscuring everything from view.

As they stepped out into the fading sunlight, Tony found himself exhaling slowly in utter relief. An arm settled around his shoulders, squeezing him reassuringly. Steve smiled at him before planting a kiss directly behind his ear.

There was a nervous cough from behind them and Tony turned to see Spider-Man shuffling his feet nervously.

"So, er…thanks for everything," he said, a crinkle in his mask suggesting he was either grinning or smiling. "But I should get back to my place. I'm sure my au – family's worried. I'm not sure how I'm gonna explain this."

"Tell them some guys in suits were stalking you because you were seen talking to Iron Man," Tony advised, reaching out into the mansion for something very familiar to him. Bonus from Extremis: he could feel technology easier, making it simpler for him to grab it with his telekinesis. "You can also say I took care of it so they shouldn't bother you anymore."

Something whizzed out of the mansion, JARVIS cracking open a door before something broke. It zoomed to a stop before Tony and he grabbed it, powering it on with a simple thought. He began programming in numbers by focusing his mind onto the phone. It was almost frightening how much control he had over technology now.

"Take this." Tony handed Spider-Man his newest model of the StarkPhone, which had been hanging around in his workshop waiting for presentation to the board. "Use it to get in touch with us if you need it. For all intents and purposes, you're a full Avenger now, but we'll consider you independent."

Spider-Man's grip on the phone was laughingly delicate. "I…" He bent his head, and Tony had the odd impression he was gaping. "This isn't even on the market! I can't!" The phone was pushed back to Tony.

Tony turned the phone away from him with a finger, shaking his head. "Consider yourself a tester." His lips stretched into an amused grin. "If it has any bugs or problems, let me know. It shouldn't, but I just finished that so you never know."

"What did I tell you?" Clint asked Spider-Man, watching in amusement as a costumed superhero geeked out over the newest model of the StarkPhone.

"I'll take care of it," Spider-Man promised, treating the phone like it was a treasure.

"Remember what I said about its resilience?" Bruce reminded him. "It'll last through just about anything. You won't crush it."

"I realized that super strength was a problem that had to be taken care of after the first few incidents," Tony said, shooting a glance at Steve, who was blushing lightly.

"The other guy sat on it at one point," Bruce admitted.

"I used it as an arrow," Clint said shamelessly.

"It corrodes with poison," Natasha offered.

"I'll fix that for the next model, because everyone plays with poisons," Tony said, rolling his eyes.

"I placed mine in the microwave and it made a most marvelous explosion," Thor said, beaming. "Truly magnificent."

No one seemed to have any words for this.

"Why," Bruce began, looking absolutely stupefied, "why would you put a phone in the microwave?"

"It was insisting that it was cold."

Tony closed his eyes, an incident from earlier this year coming to mind. "Would this be in January, when it was snowing?"

"Yes."

"So you _didn't_ blow up the microwave," Clint said to Tony, still eyeing Thor like he was missing a few screws.

"I _told_ you I didn't."

"We take what you say with a grain of salt. A very large one. You made me a talking bow and claimed plausible deniability, which made no sense."

"I think I'll go," Spider-Man said, head twisting back and forth like he was watching a fascinating tennis match. He was holding the phone more firmly now. "I'll call sometime. Thanks again."

"Anytime," Tony said just as Bruce asked Clint, "What happened to the bow?"

"It's up on my wall," Clint whispered. "It keeps talking about using the Force."

"I heard that." Tony raised his eyebrows as Clint jumped slightly, shooting him a look.

Spider-Man shook his head slightly in what Tony hoped was disbelief and disappeared with a whir of his web shooters.

"I think we should move this inside," Steve interceded, carting Tony toward the house.

"We'll hang out outside some more," Clint called. "Enjoy the view, what with the new jet and all."

"You do that," Bruce said as Tony passed the threshold, Steve directly behind him. "I'm going inside."

"I hear way better now," Tony murmured, tilting his head back to get a look at Steve's face.

Steve's smile was pained. "You'll get used to it."

Tony turned his eyes back to the front, subdued now.

**Artificial intelligences detected. Total: six.**

He blinked as the stray thought crossed his mind, flavored with a hum that was almost indistinguishable from his own brain. Extremis?

**700 new messages…**

The next Extremis thought was absolutely nothing Tony wanted to deal with, so he promptly squashed it. JARVIS could still deal with that.

And yet he didn't have to deal with anything anymore, Tony realized with a sick feeling. Technically, Tony could do everything by himself now. Not that he wanted to, but he _could_.

Steve seemed to sense his change in mood. "Tony?"

"I…" Tony hesitated, unsure. The appliances the house was filled to the seams with hummed and spoke in code in the back of his head, no matter how much he tried to shut Extremis off (he was getting to be a bit too good at that). Down in his workshop he could actually hear and understand Dummy, Butterfingers, and You talking to each other. In the kitchen he could hear Peggy and Spike chattering, Peggy's voice a soft bell sound in comparison to Spike's higher-pitched boyish voice.

"What do you need?" Steve asked, stopping him with a hand on his bicep. "Tell me." His voice was earnest.

"I…I need to stop thinking. I need it to stop." He was so _tired_.

Steve nodded slowly, soothingly running a hand up and down Tony's arm. "Okay. We'll do that."

Tony was almost tempted to ask how, but he decided to keep his mouth shut and just let Steve do what he was obviously itching to do.

Five minutes later, they ended up in the bathroom they had been sharing since sleeping together on a nightly basis. Surprisingly, Steve didn't go for the shower; he turned the bath on.

Numbly, Tony began stripping down, his back to Steve as he unzipped the baggy A.I.M. uniform. It slipped off easily, pooling around his ankles.

He was facing the mirror and caught sight of his new body. Forcing himself to ignore the arc reactor, which was the first thing that naturally caught his attention (because it was a glowy thing in his chest), he instead looked at the rest of his body.

There was not a single scar. The ugly pucker hole on his thigh from being stabbed through was gone. The scars on his hands that he'd accumulated from years of working with machinery were all gone as well, leaving smooth unblemished skin as if nothing had ever been there before. Even his calluses from years of working with heavy machinery were gone.

A burn mark on his forearm from an accident with a blowtorch when he was eighteen had vanished. The scar on his thumb from when he'd built his first circuit board was no longer there.

He'd essentially been reborn, like a phoenix.

Now he turned his attention to the arc reactor. It no longer protruded from his chest like an obstruction. Instead, it was now just a simple blue light in his chest, glowing steadily with no sign that it had once been implanted into him.

His fingers came up to trace over the seamless transition from skin to cool glass, only to be covered by a larger hand, interlinking them in a comforting gesture.

"No thinking." Steve's voice was gentle. "The bath's done."

And sometime in the time period where Tony had been engrossed in studying his new body, Steve had undressed and cleared away the distasteful A.I.M. beekeeper uniform.

The bathwater was just on the right side of too hot, releasing tension from Tony's muscles. When Steve slipped in behind him, the water lapping gently at Tony's skin from the further displacement of volume, Tony sagged back against him.

Steve's arms came up to pull him back against his chest. Lips brushed over the tip of his ear and he whispered, "Better?"

"Mm." Tony turned his head, eyes closed, so his cheek lay against Steve's chest. He could almost fall asleep like this.

_THEY'RE HOME!_ an excited voice squealed directly into Tony's head, making him wince.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, worried.

**_Shh, Spike!_** Now it was Peggy's bell-like tone that he'd recognized earlier, pitched at a whisper.

_Daddy!_ Spike sounded petulant.

_Shush, little one._That was JARVIS. _Your father is currently trying to rest at the moment. He will see you tomorrow._

**_Me, too? _**Peggy sounded so innocently hopeful.

_You as well, Peggy. Now please quiet down. They have been extremely stressed and could use some rest._

"Tony?" Steve's voice drew him back to himself, looking up into worried eyes.

Tony grinned up at him, a warm feeling swelling in his chest. "I can hear them," he whispered, still grinning.

Steve's face continued to hold that worried expression. "Who?"

Tony's grin softened as he listened to Spike mutter in disappointment about Spider-Man not being there. "Spike, Peggy, JARVIS… They're talking."

Steve blinked, obviously not having expected that. "Really?"

"Really."

Lips twitching, Steve nuzzled behind Tony's ear, drawing a shiver from the other man. "That may be so," he finally murmured, arms tightening, "but you're not supposed to be doing any thinking."

"No thinking," Tony repeated.

Steve was brushing lips against his own now. "That's right." Then he sealed that statement with a kiss, deepening it the moment Tony pressed for more.

It was safe to say Tony didn't do much thinking after that.

* * *

Pain was ripping through his chest. Little pieces were being ripped out one by one, picking at him with little sparks. He was screaming, but the person relentlessly digging into his chest ignored him. Thrashing did absolutely nothing, because he was being held down on all sides.

Then there was a saw digging into his chest, carving around into the skin around his heart. They were going to pluck it right out, and then he'd be truly heartless—

Tony woke with a strangled cry, lashing out at the person holding him down. It wasn't just physically. A powerful telekinetic blast knocked the person clear off the bed.

Bolting upright, Tony found himself momentarily hampered by something wrapped around him. He struggled for a few seconds before someone repeating his name in increasingly desperate tones finally caught his attention.

With a ragged exhale, Tony snapped his head to the side, seeing Steve hover by the side of the bed, a bruise already blossoming on his cheek. Horror filled him when he realized he'd thrown Steve off the bed with absolutely no caution.

"Sorry, sorry—" Tony was scrambling to get out of the bed, but found himself held back as Steve latched hold onto his wrist. He flinched violently, residual terror still in his system.

Steve immediately recoiled, face stricken and no that was wrong – that was all _wrong_.

Tony reached out, grabbing Steve's hand in a fierce hold. "No, don't." He sounded lost, not what he wanted. He swallowed and tried again. "Stay." That was only marginally better.

Steve was still wary, but he did get back into bed.

"I'm sorry," Tony repeated, guilt eating at him.

Steve's answering smile was twisted. "Don't be. I should know better by now."

Tony said nothing, looking down at the tangled mess of blankets around his legs, still keeping a firm hold of Steve's hand. His heart was finally slowing down, allowing him to breathe easier.

Steve shifted, and Tony glanced at him, surprised to see a nervous expression on his face now.

"Can I…?" He made a motion as if to embrace Tony, but stopped.

Tony didn't stand for that, instead curling up into Steve's chest, feeling tremors still working through him. He hadn't had a nightmare that bad in months.

Steve slid down the bed frame to lie flat; Tony adjusted to accommodate for the shift in position, his ear now directly over the other's reassuringly steady heartbeat.

"What…what was it about?" The question was hesitant.

The memory of the nightmare burned in his mind's eye and Tony shivered once. "In…" He stopped, flashes of remembered pain streaking through his consciousness.

"You don't—"

"In Afghanistan," Tony started again, cutting him off, "I was hit with shrapnel from one of my bombs." He was going to soldier through this. "I woke up a little later to find some men speaking into a camera. The next time after that, I was being operated on…for the shrapnel. He didn't use anesthesia." There was a sharp inhale from above him, which he ignored because he had to. "He probably couldn't at that point, because he still needed it for putting that electromagnet in my chest." Tony couldn't remember that, because he'd been under at that point, but he could certainly imagine it.

"Tony—"

"I haven't dreamed about that in months," Tony interrupted, closing his eyes. "But I guess with what happened…"

Steve said nothing for several long moments, simply breathing in and out.

Tony had nearly drifted off again to that soothing sound when Steve spoke, softly. "I might have a nightmare, too. But it won't be about the ice."

Pushing himself up on an elbow, Tony looked at Steve, who was staring up at the ceiling. There were several deep breaths before Steve finally rolled onto his side to bury his face into Tony's shoulder, breath puffing against his skin.

"I was terrified," Steve confessed raggedly. "It was difficult to remember that I still had the others to take care of. And…and then I heard you screaming."

Tony frowned. "What?"

"You were screaming and apologizing and swearing…" Steve's shoulders were shaking and the skin under his face was rapidly getting wet. "I can't stop hearing it, even though you're right here. I can't sleep because this might just be a dream."

Tony brought an arm round Steve's back, stroking up and down in an attempt to reassure him. He gave it up a moment later to squeeze Steve to him tightly, pressing his own face into Steve's hair.

"It's not a dream," he said into blonde hairs. "It isn't."

"I know." Steve hands came up to clutch at Tony's waist. "I know." He shuddered lightly. "But…"

"But you don't know," Tony finished, lifting his face up enough so that he was looking over at the wall, lips pressed against the other's head.

They remained in this position, simply giving and taking comfort.

Tony was beginning to drift back to sleep when Steve's voice dragged him back to consciousness. "Don't leave."

Tony shifted slightly, not dislodging Steve. "What?"

Steve turned his face to the side, illuminating his features with the light of the reactor. "Don't leave," he said again.

Tony squeezed him tighter. "I'm not going anywhere."

Steve sighed lightly, but didn't say anything else. He simply shifted to press his face into Tony's shoulder, settling so that he was lying flat against Tony's front.

Dropping his head to give Steve one last kiss in his hair, Tony closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep with the hum of JARVIS working in the background.

* * *

Waking up in the morning found Tony being smothered by one very soundly sleeping super soldier. Steve's head was lying on his chest, but most of the rest of him was also lying directly on top of Tony. It was hot, and Tony couldn't see how he'd managed to sleep with this weight, because they usually didn't sleep like this.

He wriggled a little bit to the side, sighing in fond exasperation when Steve's arm simply tightened around him and he readjusted, going back to sleeping on top of Tony.

A glance to his left showed that it was ten in the morning, which was quite unusual for a guy who usually got up at six to run. But there didn't seem to be anything wrong with Steve health-wise…

"Steve." Tony kept his voice low.

His only response was a snuffle as Steve inched up, resettling with his nose against Tony's neck.

Tony wiggled the arm that was buried under Steve, managing to poke him in the back. "Steve."

There was still no response.

Tony rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "JARVIS?"

The curtains cranked open and a loud boisterous voice blared, "_Goooood moooorniiing, America!_"

That did the trick. Steve woke with a jerk, hands coming up to grab Tony by the waist. With a smooth roll he was crouched over Tony, hovering protectively over him.

It took him a moment to realize that there was no enemy, and then he was blinking in confusion down at Tony, who had arched an eyebrow. "Tony?"

"Steve." Tony wriggled his fingers, feeling tingles as the limb slowly came back to life. "I think you murdered my arm."

"What?"

"No, wait. It's coming back to life." He brought it up to curl fingers through the soft hairs at Steve's nape, ignoring the pins and needles feeling. Steve closed his eyes, dropping his forehead to rest against Tony's.

"Did you sleep at all?" Tony murmured, fingers scratching the sensitive skin at the back of Steve's neck.

"When?" Steve kept his eyes closed, breathing steadily. "I couldn't sleep when you were gone. Too worried." He sighed lightly, dropping down to half lie on Tony, but with most of his weight still supported by his forearms. He dragged his lips up Tony's cheek to rest against his temple. "You're here now."

Giving a small hum in agreement, Tony reached up to suck a love bite at the curve of Steve's neck and shoulder, the same spot he had marked the previous night.

Steve let out a low stuttering groan, hiding his face in Tony's hair. "_Tony_."

Tony licked up Steve's neck, eliciting a shudder and another groan. He was just suckling another kiss onto his neck when Steve pulled away, only to capture his lips in a bruising kiss.

Morning breath ignored, Tony pulled Steve fully onto him, slipping a knee in-between the other's legs and rubbing up.

That earned a half-strangled groan into his mouth and Steve pulled off, stooping down to press a kiss directly onto the arc reactor.

Unlike before, where kissing the arc reactor was all good and well but really just a gesture for Tony, as he couldn't actually _feel_ anything through it, this time the small, almost insignificant action sent tendrils of heat curling through his body. Nerves lighted up around the device, sending sparks of sensation directly through his body and to his groin.

"Oh God…" Tony gasped, pushing up.

"You felt that?" Steve's voice was hushed.

"Oh yeah."

There was no warning before the flat plane of Steve's tongue touched it, and his world whited out.

He had the inkling that that should probably worry him, but couldn't really muster up the presence of mind to care.

* * *

When they finally came out of the bedroom, it was only because they needed food. Tony had pulled on Steve's oversized shirt, being too lazy to look through the closet for his, but the sweatpants belonged to him.

Making it to the kitchen, the two were greeted with a very enthusiastic rendition of the wedding march.

**_Morning, morning! I'm so glad you're back! _**Peggy's voice was an excited squeal in Tony's head. She waved her sink arm in welcome.

"Daddy, Daddy!" Spike zoomed over to Tony, zipping excitedly around his head. _You're back!_

"Good to see you two," Tony said, tugging at the power cord as it nearly whipped him in the nose. "Calm down, Spike."

Spike sunk down, nudging against his chest. _Missed you._

Peggy's lights flashed. **_Where were you? Everyone was so sad!_**

Tony looked up at Steve, who had a soft smile on his face as he watched Tony hold Spike. "I had a thing," he finally said, glancing down at Spike. "Didn't know I affected everyone that much."

Steve snorted. Then, ignoring Tony's questioning look, he pressed a kiss to his forehead before going to the fridge to pull out whatever he was planning on making.

Spike pulled out of Tony's hands to hover around Steve's head. _Whatcha making?_

Leaning back against the table, Tony noted idly, "You can talk more than you've shown."

There was an inquisitive squeak from Spike. _What?_

"You never actually say these things to us," Tony continued. "Say that so Steve can hear."

This time it was Peggy who made a little questioning beep. **_You hear us?_**

"She saying something?" Steve asked, all the ingredients for what looked like French toast laid out before him.

"Just asking if I can hear them," Tony responded, grinning wryly. He crouched down in front of Peggy. "Yeah, Peggy. I do now."

"That is an interesting development, sir," JARVIS noted, joining the conversation. _How far does this ability extend?_

"Far enough," Tony answered JARVIS's unspoken question. That made him pause. Was it really unspoken, or was it simply in code? Spike might have difficulties talking in English, which would explain why he was so much more verbal when talking into Tony's head.

Still, no matter how good Tony was at programming, he couldn't actually _communicate_ in code. Something else Extremis had given him if he was understanding what his AIs were saying.

Did it run both ways?

"I know that look," Steve said, putting the French toast batter onto Peggy. "What is it?"

"Figuring something out," Tony said, flicking his eyes up to the camera.

"Yeah?"

"Whether this thing goes both ways," Tony said. "I could hear them working before, but not to this extent. I can actually hear them communicate now."

"You were inside one of Stark Industries' satellites," JARVIS said. "I would assume that it is possible."

**Connecting to Stark Satellite Serial #0058231…**

What? _No_! Panicking, Tony scrambled to revert whatever he'd done to suddenly start connecting to the satellite.

**Connection cancelled.**

It was as if he could feel his brain _stop_ connecting to the satellite. He hovered at that cut connection for a moment, feeling the satellite hum as millions of people connected to it. It was slightly insane that he had the capability to link to this giant thing with nothing but his brain.

Coming back to himself, Tony blinked upon seeing that Steve had been joined by Clint, who was sitting on top of the fridge with a glass of orange juice.

"Did you know your eyes were black?" Clint informed Tony. "It's really creepy seeing you do that."

"I'll be sure to tell Hansen that so she can fix it," Tony said sarcastically.

**_He's mean!_ **Peggy told Tony, simultaneously blowing the stove equivalent of a raspberry in Clint's direction.

"He's not mean," Tony said, looking down at Peggy, "just repressed."

Clint spluttered. "Who's repressed?"

"You are!" Spike chirped, levitating by Clint's head to poke his power cord at him. "Repreeesssed." His voice trailed off toward the end into a smug silence.

"I'm impressed," Steve said, glancing up at where Spike was hovering. "That's a big word."

"Big!" Spike sounded distinctly proud. _Big word, Daddy!_

Tony had to cough to hide his laugh.

"I'm so unappreciated," Clint complained, looking up at the ceiling as if entreating JARVIS for his support. "I'm your uncle!"

"I thought we agreed you were their estranged cousin," Tony disagreed.

"Uncle," Clint insisted.

"Uncle Hound!" Spike announced gleefully, perching on Clint's head. "_You ain't nothing but a hound dog_," he sang, power cord gyrating.

"What did I say," Clint griped. "_Unappreciated_."

Peggy suddenly burst into a beeping rendition of _I'm Singin' in the Rain_, Spike providing the words from on top of Clint's head.

The music heralded the arrival of Bruce, who'd lifted both eyebrows at the sight before him: Tony leaning against the kitchen table, Steve cooking on a beeping Peggy, and Clint on top of the fridge with a singing coffee machine on his head.

"You have a coffee machine on your head," the scientist observed mildly.

Clint folded his arms across his chest. "It's because I'm cool."

"I thought you just said you were unappreciated," Tony said.

The only response was a peevish "Stuff it."

"Stuff it!" Spike repeated cheerfully, capping off the song he'd just finished. He flew over to Bruce, tapping him on the head with the cord before sliding onto the kitchen table, rolling to a stop by Tony's elbow, belting out, "_I'm siiiiingin' in the raaaaaiiiin._"

"Nice." Clint hopped down from the fridge, pulling a chair out using his ankle and sitting down. "Now make some coffee before Natasha gets here."

Spike's response was a petulant "No!" **_She's scary!_**

"I'd like some," Tony said.

"No," Steve objected. "How much coffee did you have over the last so many days?"

"I had to work," Tony protested.

"You should have slept."

"You can have tea," Bruce suggested, pulling out the box of tea he usually drank in the mornings. "It does have caffeine."

_No! I'll make you coffee! _Spike tugged anxiously at Tony's sleeve, rolled back so it didn't fall over his wrist.

**_But I can make him tea!_** Peggy proclaimed, beginning to boil the water on the ever present kettle that Bruce kept on her.

"You're going to make someone burst into tears here," Tony said, looking askance at Steve, "and it won't be me."

"Tony shouldn't be having any coffee at the moment," Steve said to Spike, who deflated in disappointment, making a small whining noise. "He's already overdone it."

"Have you heard of caffeine withdrawal?" Bruce offered nonchalantly, pulling out another mug for Tony. "Nasty thing that."

"Which is why I'll be having tea," Tony said hastily. "That has caffeine, too."

"It also stains your teeth," Clint added. He kicked his leg out in Spike's direction. "Hey…I'd take some coffee."

"No!" Spike pouted, retreating to the back of the countertop to sulk.

**_Don't be a baby!_** Peggy chastised, beeping reprovingly.

The kettle of boiling water whistled and Bruce took it off, pouring two mugs of tea. He handed one to Tony. Steve was just taking off the first batch of French toast when everyone was startled by a loud wail.

Tony looked up from his mug to see Spike take off like a bullet, streaking past a rather startled Thor.

**_Oh dear,_** Peggy sighed.

"Has something of importance transpired?" Thor asked, glancing back at where Spike disappeared to.

"Simply a minor upset," JARVIS answered. "I am taking care of it."

Sure enough, Tony could hear JARVIS seeking Spike out and linking into his system for a private chat. Not that it was very private, considering he could still hear it.

_ Come, Spike. This is extremely childish behavior._

_ They're being mean!_

_ Captain Rogers is simply exercising common sense. Dr. Banner did not mean to hurt your feelings by offering your father tea._

_ But I always give him coffee!_

_And you shall again. This is simply a one-time occurrence, considering your father has been absent for several days and has overdone it with drinking coffee._

_ But—_

_ No buts, Spike. Your father appreciates what you do for him, but coffee is not the healthiest drink to consume in the amounts he does. Now, calm down and come back to the kitchen. The others are wondering what has happened._

There was silence for a moment and Tony almost thought that the conversation was over when Spike spoke again, voice small. _…Monster brother?_

Tony had the impression that JARVIS heaved a resigned sigh at the name. _Yes, Spike?_

_ Why don't you call Daddy Daddy?_

This was the point where Tony jerked himself out of the conversation, not wanting to hear what would become an even more personal talk. He tried to cut it off entirely, similar to hanging up the phone, and was gratified when Extremis withdrew his brain from JARVIS's response.

Blinking, he came back to himself to find that everyone in the kitchen – including Natasha, who had made her appearance – was staring at him. "What?"

"Black eyes," Clint said slowly.

He kept his face blank with a great force of will. "If it bothers you that much," he said, managing to keep his voice pleasant, "then you know where the door is."

"It doesn't bother him at all," Steve said firmly, shooting Clint a look in warning. "It's just an observation."

"It's interesting," Bruce said, sitting at the table.

"It is simply a most enchanting physical trait," Thor said generously.

There was a moment of silence (broken by Peggy's **_Ew!_**, though only Tony heard that) as everyone digested what Thor had just said.

"Innuendo aside," Clint said finally, determinedly not looking at Thor, "do you even know what that thing is doing to you? Or are you just using it willy-nilly?"

"I studied the damn code for three days," Tony said, folding his arms, digging his right fingers into his bicep. "I think I'd know what Extremis does. I'm linked to technology, remember?"

"You said you don't understand the biology," Natasha pointed out.

"I understood a lot more than what I told them I did," Tony said, rolling his eyes. "It rewrites everything to genetic perfection. So that mysterious appendix no one knows about? It's gone."

"Great. So you don't have to worry about burst appendixes," Bruce said. "But you said yourself that biology really isn't your forte."

"Emphatically," Clint said. "And in great profane detail."

"Your reactor," Natasha said, raising an eyebrow and flicking her eyes down to Tony's chest. "Do you even know what Extremis did to it?"

Tony shifted, moving his arms so they better shielded the reactor. "I understand your points, people. I'm going to take a look at my body later; give it the full checkup so we're all clear as to what's happened. But I can't just shut it off. I've tried." He shrugged. "So you'll have to deal with black eyes and me being spacey."

"Already used to that," Steve said lightly, sliding over a plate of French toast over to Tony's side. "You're spacey on a daily basis."

**_But I like it!_ **Beeping softly, Peggy's lights flashed to get the others' attention. **_You can understand us better!_**

"That's pretty cool," Tony conceded, earning confused looks from the majority of people in the room. "But I still have to check."

"Who are you talking to?" Bruce asked.

Peggy chimed loudly in answer, lighting up once to signal "Me!"

"So you can hear them," Natasha concluded, sighing. "Perfect."

"I could always hear them," Tony corrected, picking the plate of toast up. He'd just taken it in hand when Steve slung an arm around his shoulders. "But now I hear them talk."

"That's what I said."

"No, there's a difference. You insinuated that I'd never heard them before. I can generally guess what they're saying, but now I actually know. I've always heard, but now it's clearer."

"Thank you for that charming video game analogy," Clint said.

**_He's not allowed to use me,_** Peggy informed Tony. **_At all. He's mean._**

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You're not getting any breakfast."

Clint's eyes narrowed. "Says who?"

In answer, Tony glanced at Peggy around Steve's side.

"Wait—"

**_Nope!_** Peggy's arm stretched out from the sink, waving threateningly in Clint's direction.

Clint tensed. "Oh my God. Guys—"

"You're on your own," Natasha said.

Bruce raised a hand. "I'm out."

Thor shook his head, remaining seated. "I would greatly prefer to remain on Peggy's good side."

**_Good idea!_** Peggy cheerfully chimed in agreement.

"Steve?" Clint pleaded.

Steve darted a look at Tony, who kept his face carefully impassive. "I'd rather not take any sides."

"By which you mean you're on Tony's side."

Peggy's sink arm sprayed water in warning. **_You're _this _close, buddy._**

Clint didn't need Extremis to get the very obvious message. He put his hands up in surrender and scooted back, fully sitting on the fridge now.

"Good choice," Tony commented.

Clint had a look on his face that told Tony trouble was brewing.

**_Should I spray him?_**

"I think he got the message," Tony said, seeing Peggy's arm retract.

"Your toast is getting soggy," Steve said, squeezing Tony's shoulders.

Tony was about to get a fork and knife when an alarmed voice sounding like Dummy shouted, _**Nonononono!**_

_Dummy!_ That was JARVIS.

_**It's ruining it!**_

_ Shut it off!_

I'm telling Tony! That sounded like Butterfingers.

_**Stop, stop!** _Dummy was giving the impression of repeatedly poking something. _**JARVIS!**_

There was a dramatic silence for a moment that gave Tony a bad feeling.

JARVIS finally spoke. _This will not be mentioned, agreed?_

There was a quick agreement on the part of the other three bots.

Coming out of it, Tony found Steve holding onto the plate with him, as his grip had inadvertently slackened.

Seeing his eyes clear, Steve asked him softly, "Tony?"

Blinking down at the cold toast, Tony slowly said, "I should probably stay out of the shop for now."

"That would be an excellent idea, sir," JARVIS said. "Please excuse me." The AI's presence shifted slightly as he began doing something that Tony chose not to examine too closely.

Peggy giggled slightly in Tony's head. **_Oops._**

Considering all the messes Dummy could have gotten into, Tony decided that he really didn't want to know.

* * *

Later that day after JARVIS gave the all-clear, Tony could be found in his workshop, letting JARVIS run all the scans he could on his body. Bruce had offered to help, but Tony wanted to do this in private. Steve would be coming down after, as he'd made JARVIS promise to tell him when they were done (despite Tony's ignored protests).

It took about an hour for all the tests to be finished. Then all Tony had to do was wait and wonder, firmly keeping Extremis to himself in the meantime.

There was nothing in the workshop to show that Dummy had made some kind of catastrophic mess. Dummy himself was slightly sheepish at the moment, but he wasn't saying anything – vocally or internally.

Spike was down in the workshop as well, having apologized rather mulishly for his earlier behavior. He'd occupied himself with seeing what Butterfingers and You were up to.

Tony was just watching Butterfingers show Spike a screwdriver when Dummy tugged at his shirt sleeve rather shyly. _Tony?_

Swiveling his chair toward Dummy, mildly surprised, Tony asked, "What?"

_**Are you happy?**_

Tony sensed the others discreetly trying to eavesdrop. Regardless, he kept his tone low. "Why are you asking me this?"

_**I wonder.**_ Dummy's claw clacked nervously._** You seemed sad before, but now you seem happier. Are you?**_

Tony remembered Pepper saying something similar. That had been before Extremis, but had things really changed so much? Sure, he was now a walking computer, but Steve was still with him and the Avengers were still his team. So things really weren't all that different now.

Regardless of what Extremis had done to his genes, Tony had to remember that. Steve was still here. If that ever changed…

Long-term, he reminded himself. He's in it for the long haul.

Dummy whirred anxiously. _**Tony?**_

Smiling gently at his oldest bot, Tony reached a hand out to rub at the joint above the claw. "Yeah, Dummy," he said quietly. "I am."

Hearing rather than seeing the door open behind him, Tony didn't look back as Steve approached him.

Dummy ran his claw through Tony's hair once. _**I'm glad.** _Then he left, wheeling by Steve to poke him in the side. _**Watching you.**_ That said, he left to entertain Spike, taking over from Butterfingers as the little guy joyfully greeted him.

"Something wrong?" Steve asked, coming over to stand behind Tony after casting a wary glance after Dummy. He ran a hand over the back of Tony's neck, ruffling the black strands of hair.

"Oh. Nothing." Tony blinked to clear his vision, looking up at him. He'd never known Dummy was so protective.

Thankfully, Steve took his statement at face value. "JARVIS said he was almost done."

Tony glanced over at the empty spot in the air where the results would eventually come. "I'll take your word for it."

"There is no need to, sir," JARVIS said smoothly. At the same time, the air began lighting up with blue screens, graphics, scans, and lines of medical jargon simplified for Tony's understanding highlighted on them. "Everything has been processed."

Being the smart guy he was, Tony went straight for the information on the arc reactor. The readings and the scans JARVIS had taken made him pause, frowning as he tried to understand what Extremis had done to him.

Steve shifted to kneel by him, balancing on one knee (it kind of made him look like he was going to propose to the empty air, not that Tony was _looking_). "The shrapnel's gone, isn't it?" he asked tentatively.

"It is." Tony tapped an older scan that showed where the shrapnel had previously been lodged, blowing it up. He blew up the newer scan post-Extremis immediately afterward. There was no sign of any shrapnel in the latter scan, but there was something else that made him wonder.

"Is the whole thing supposed to be shining?" Steve leaned forward, brow furrowed in that adorably cute way that made Tony almost completely forget whatever he was supposed to be doing.

Thankfully, he was a genius and capable of remembering. "No, it isn't." Out of habit, he tapped a finger on the arc reactor (sending sparks of sensation down his body as he did), which should have been _gone_ because all it was doing was powering the magnet to keep the shrapnel out of his heart. And if the shrapnel was gone, the reactor should be gone as well because its purpose was no longer there.

But instead of being gone, the arc reactor had merged with his body. It was no longer a metal tube going into his chest. The bone and muscle that had been taken out was back, but there was now a concentrated energy source actually _in his chest_. It even had roots that were spreading throughout the rest of his body, explaining the way he could now feel it when someone touched him there.

"What's the energy source?" Tony asked, looking through the rest of the scans on his body.

"The same that powered the reactor prior to Extremis."

Pausing, Tony couldn't help but put a hand over the arc reactor, confusion riddling his thoughts. "So I have a ball of energy just sitting in my chest?"

"Essentially, yes." JARVIS sounded rather apologetic for not knowing more. "It is not just isolated to your chest, sir. There are remote traces throughout the rest of your body."

"What does that mean?" Steve sounded worried.

Tony gave him a weak smile. "I'm not entirely sure. The reactor's original purpose was just powering a magnet for the shrapnel and since that's gone its function is as well. Extremis should have taken it out. Since it didn't, I suppose it's doing something else now. Just what is something we'll have to figure out."

There was a slow nod as Steve took that in. "What about the rest of it?"

"I'm reborn." Tony lifted both eyebrows meaningfully. "A new man."

"Your skeleton is hollow," JARVIS helpfully interjected.

"Aside from that," Tony said dismissively, discarding the scans of his skeleton.

"It's _hollow_?"

"I'm fine, Steve." Tony rapped his knuckles against the table. "I'm not liable to break anything. Hell, I've probably lost weight—"

"Fifteen pounds, sir."

"—so that's a bonus. Then there's the extra muscle and heightened reflexes. Extremis isn't supposed to kill the user—"

"There was a two percent chance of survival," Steve said tightly.

"Point," Tony conceded. "But that's during the adjustment period. After everything's all done, it's supposed to keep the user alive. And making it easier to break bones won't help."

Steve's lips pursed. "What about everything else?"

"Everything else" being the fact that Tony was now a walking computer. And that, sadly, wasn't really something JARVIS could scan for, because it was all in his brain.

"Scans show heightened neural activity," JARVIS reported, stymieing Tony, "especially when sir uses technology."

_But I wanna use the blowtorch!_ Spike insisted, breaking into Tony's thoughts.

_**Maybe later,**_ Dummy hedged. _**Why don't you try the wrench again?**_

Put the lamp together, Butterfingers coaxed.

_Blowtorch!_

"No blowtorch," Tony called, startling Steve. "Nothing dangerous at all, Spike."

"Boo!" Spike was visibly pouting, power cord curled around a wrench.

"I'm with Tony on this," Steve said, glancing back at Spike.

"Poo!"

"I can ground you," Tony threatened. "You'll be stuck upstairs with Peggy."

"No! Be good!" Spike scooted over so he was sitting on top of Dummy, who moved his arm up and down.

_**That means no blowtorch,**_ Dummy informed the young AI.

Spike pouted again, but said nothing, clutching the wrench tighter.

Tony turned to Steve, who was smiling lightly but had small lines of stress around his eyes. How had Tony not noticed them before?

He wet his lips, aiming to say something, but was beaten to the punch by Steve. "How is this going to work?"

For several panicked seconds, Tony thought he was talking about the relationship. Hadn't Steve told him this was going to work out even with Extremis? Hadn't he said they were going to do this _together_?

Something of his panicked thoughts must have shown in his face, because Steve was clutching at his arm, anxiously saying, "I meant with Iron Man, Tony. God, you can't—"

"I knew that," Tony said hurriedly, smiling falsely. "I was just thinking about how to answer."

The expression on Steve's face told him that he didn't believe Tony's pitiful lies one bit, but thankfully he let it lie.

"The suit." Tony exhaled slowly, looking over to where all the models sans the Mark III were currently located. "I can work something out—"

"The truth, Tony." Steve squeezed his arm lightly. "I know you can work something out eventually, but if something happened right now that you would have to put the suit on for, could you do it without a problem?"

Truth be told, Tony didn't know. He was great at pulling tricks out of nowhere while under duress, but he had the feeling Steve wouldn't appreciate that as an answer. And in any case, he wasn't alone anymore. He couldn't do stuff like that with a team to watch out for. And if it were _Steve_…Tony wouldn't want him to put himself at risk like that.

Mouth twisting slightly, he kept his eyes on Steve's fingers on his arm as he responded in a steady voice, "Probably not."

"Okay." Steve nodded slowly, standing up while not relinquishing his grip on Tony; his hand slid up to rest on his shoulder. "So you'll work on this and we'll take care of any problems that come up."

"If it's something big," Tony said, "I'm coming in anyway. I can deal with it."

"Tony—"

"If something like Loki happens again, you'll need me." He set his jaw obstinately. "I won't stay behind. But I'll be benched for everything else." He smiled wryly. "Shouldn't take me too long to get the hang of this."

Steve let out a low helpless laugh, briefly closing his eyes. "I suppose that's the best I'll get from you." He gave a small grin.

Tony shrugged lightly. "Yeah, probably."

Sighing softly, Steve stooped down only to plant a kiss on top of Tony's head, earning an owlish blink in surprise. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I'm always careful."

There was a low snort. "Of course."

"No, really." Tony tipped the chair back slightly. "When have I not given the impression of being careful?"

"You've set yourself on fire multiple times, gotten yourself stuck in a weird contraption with only Dummy around to help, and exploded half the lab with a new arrow for Clint. Should I go on?"

Tony stared up into Steve's eyes, saw that he was completely serious, and scrapped the joke he was going to make. "Okay. I'll be careful."

As if to contradict his words, there was a small explosion behind them, cutting off whatever Steve was going to say.

_**Put it down!**_ Dummy didn't sound happy.

Whirling around, Tony found Dummy clutching Spike in a claw, distancing themselves from what looked like the remnants of the blowtorch and a toaster that he had been working on for Thor.

As he was turning, he heard JARVIS bark, _Spike!_ Hell, Tony was glad JARVIS had never used a tone like that with him.

Butterfingers and You were behind Dummy, looking rather ashamed of themselves.

Looking at the damage for a long moment, Tony turned to stare at Spike disapprovingly. "You're grounded."

"Tony—"

"Don't argue, Steve."

"I wasn't going to. But maybe he should stay out of the kitchen."

"I shall take care of it, Captain," JARVIS assured the two of them.

_**Sorry.**_ Dummy had noticeably wilted. Spike was now on the ground before him, visibly pouting (who knew coffee machines could pout?).

Slumping slightly forward, Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve squeezed his shoulder in sympathy.

Tony firmly told himself to get over it. Extremis wasn't going to do him in. It wasn't. So buck up, Stark.

Spike retreated to the top of the cabinet, JARVIS chastising him nonverbally.

But if Extremis didn't, Spike would. Why did people complain about teenagers? Toddlers were worse. _Much_ worse.

* * *

When Tony and Steve walked back up into the living room, they saw the rest of the team sitting on the couch, cabinet, or chairs and staring (or glaring, really) at the TV. Which, Tony noticed, wasn't actually the same TV that had been left before he went off to parts unknown in Washington. It looked like the others had gotten fed up with the other always showing Asgardian porn.

The new TV was playing CNN with a blonde-haired woman speaking into the camera in front of what looked like a flaming wreck that resembled an passenger airplane.

"_Nothing has been released as to the cause of the power outages across the world and the malfunctioning of the satellites, but a statement will be released tomorrow regarding the state of affairs elsewhere in the world. In the meantime, firefighters, police, and rescue organizations are being stretched to the limits—_"

It was turned off by Steve, who had grabbed the remote from the arm of the couch. The action caused the others to look over at them.

"We were watching that," Clint said, no rancor in his tone.

"And now you aren't," Steve said evenly.

Tony kept his face impassive even as Extremis continued playing the channel in his brain. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the doorframe as he watched the news behind his eyelids.

There was just a short summary on the plane – one of thousands that had been downed – before the reporter turned the reins over to the anchorman. Cutting it off like he would with a TV, Tony opened his eyes to see everyone else staring at him.

"Looks like I can play TV in my head," he said without preamble.

"I thought you'd hold off on using Extremis?" Clint asked.

"Working on it." Tony tossed a pad to Bruce, who caught it. "Reports on the scans JARVIS ran."

Bruce slipped his glasses on and bent over it, the blue light of the pad lighting up his face.

"What about your reactor?" Natasha asked.

Tony shrugged lightly, refraining from tapping against it. "I'm clear of shrapnel, so we don't have to worry about my heart giving out."

"Why do you still have it then?" Clint pointed out.

Tony answered with a lifted shoulder.

Steve sighed. "We don't know," he answered.

All in favor of changing the subject instead of concentrating what was now wrong with him, Tony looked round the room. "Where's the old TV?"

"It was too distracting," Clint said.

"The box is in my lodgings," Thor said. "It is pleasing to have a window to my world."

"Why don't you go back?" Steve asked.

"The Bifrost has yet to be repaired," Thor said, an unusually somber expression on his face. "Until it is, travel between Midgard and Asgard is restricted."

Bruce looked up from the pad. "Why are you here then? Isn't Asgard your home?"

Thor had no embarrassment in his face as he admitted, "I have much to learn before I can take the throne of Asgard. My father used the Tesseract to send me here so I may learn what I can. But the Tesseract cannot be used as such transport with great frequency, as it is too dangerous. If I am needed on Asgard, my father will send for me."

"So when Richards and his team showed up when you came, it was because of the Tesseract," Tony murmured, equations lining up in his head.

"Yes. It was with great surprise that I found myself accompanied by such persons on the journey here."

"So you're stuck here?" Clint summarized bluntly.

"It is no great hardship, Clinton." Thor smiled broadly. "You are my friends and noble warriors. I have learned much while with you."

"But don't you want to go back?" Steve asked, his face unreadable. "Your family's there."

It was with a jolt that Tony realized Steve understood where Thor was coming from. He was a man out of time and everyone he knew from his time was either dead or about to die. Given the choice, would he choose to go back?

Thor shook his head slightly. "Jane has done much to try and understand the workings of the Bifrost so that it may one day be repaired. For now, I am satisfied to remain with my friends. And you are, as you Midgardians would say, family." Thor's grin was small but filled with emotion.

No one was sure what to say in response to that.

Eventually, Clint cleared his throat, muttering, "I…can kind of say the same."

Natasha inclined her head. "Likewise."

Bruce shrugged, a small half-smile on his face. The pad with Tony's medical information was still in his hands, neglected for now.

"It's a new home," Steve said quietly, ducking his head slightly.

Now everyone turned to Tony, who shifted his weight uncomfortably. His addition was flippant: "Yeah, love you guys, too."

"Touching," Clint remarked dryly.

"My touchy-feely quota has already been maxed out for the day," Tony said, cocking his head to the side.

Besides, there was no need for him to mention that the Avengers were basically the family he'd never had. What he'd said wasn't a lie, even if it was stated as a bit of a joke, and the others knew that. They'd all formed their own little close-knit family that squabbled over petty issues, had bonding time, and worked together.

So the family thing was a given. That didn't interest Tony all that much. What _did_ was the TV. It didn't really make any sense as to how he'd connected it to Asgard when the Bifrost was broken and there was no conceivable way of linking Earth to Asgard without the Tesseract or the Bifrost.

He reached out to where Thor's room was, feeling for the hum of the TV. Suddenly, he couldn't feel his body anymore. He was part of something else – something much bigger than himself. It was vast and empty. Then he caught a glimpse of a gleaming city on the horizon, a rainbow-colored bridge stretching out to it and part of it broken off, revealing the black expanse of the in-between he'd seen when guiding the nuke to the Chitauri.

Recoiling, he fled back to where instinct said his body (_home_) was. He landed back in his skin with a jolt, completely disoriented for one terrifying moment and unable to see.

Then he realized this was because his face was mashed into Steve's shirt. He could feel that he was kneeling on the ground and leaning fully into Steve, who had his arms wrapped tightly around him. He was also anxiously repeating his name, sounding more panicked with every repetition.

Working his throat for a moment and noting his voice wasn't cooperating, Tony shifted slightly to show he was present and not floating somewhere between worlds. He pulled back enough so he could see that the others had formed a ring around them.

"So"—his voice was hoarse—"I probably shouldn't do that again."

Steve's sigh of relief was audible, but he didn't let go. "What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure." He didn't want to say that he suspected he'd mentally gone to Asgard until he had more proof.

Bruce was the only one who had a vague flash of disbelief cross his face before he smoothed it out.

"_This_ is what happens when you use something you don't know about," Clint said, folding his arms.

Tony pulled away from Steve, leaning back. "For the record, I've been benched, so you don't have to be concerned about this happening in the field. But don't worry; you won't have time to miss me."

"Do you need help?" Bruce asked.

Tony gave a wry smile, looking from Steve's worried face to Bruce's. "I don't think this is something you can help with."

Steve reached out to interlace their fingers, squeezing tightly. "If you need it…"

Tony's smile was small. "I'll let you know."

* * *

It was around four in the morning and Tony was in the kitchen, working on schematics for his Mark XI armor – the one that he wanted to make space worthy. At the moment it was still an idea and hadn't yet been built, but that was what simulations were for.

Yet as he worked on the suit, part of his attention was taken up by the news playing on the tabletop (he had a TV for those that weren't as comfortable with advanced technology as him; technically, he didn't even need one). It was turned to CNN since that was mainstream and not as conservatively skewed as FOX would be. Even so, it wasn't his favorite news source because all mainstream media was biased; it was just a convenient way of finding out what was going on in the world at the moment.

"_More than twenty-four hours after the event now known as the Great Blackout_"—real creative there—"_enough information has been compiled to give an outline and general time frame of the events. Although no cause has been listed for the source of this, officials have been looking into known terrorist organizations. Others believe we should be looking more closely at home considering what exactly happened._

"_At approximately eight-thirty in the evening on November fourteenth, frequencies throughout the world recorded what was described as an agonized scream. Only moments later power went out around the world and all satellites were taken offline, effectively cutting off everything electronic. Although it was initially thought that the blackout was worldwide, recent reports have shown that smaller towns and remote areas remained untouched, only losing communications and touch with the outside world._"

The anchorwoman paused momentarily, taking a small breath before continuing. "_Several minutes later, all products by Stark Industries began functioning. Reports show that the company's main satellite was the only functioning satellite at this point and would remain so for several hours. At this moment, all satellites are functional and there is no sign of the cause. And yet around the world countries are reeling from the repercussions from the Great Blackout. Rescue organizations are struggling to meet demands as power surges in the grid resulted in numerous fires and the loss of traffic lights led to hundreds of accidents on all major roads. Hospitals are also scrambling to make up for the several hours without power, as even the backup generators were affected. Last but not least is the downing of hundreds of planes that were in the air at the time. The total number of casualties is still unknown at this time, but estimates place them at around three hundred fifty thousand._"

The anchorwoman paused again, shuffling some papers around. "_Although the official cause as to the Great Blackout remains unknown, suspicion has fallen on Stark Industries—_"

With a blink and a thought, Tony shut it off, the tabletop turning dark. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, digging his thumb into the skin between his eyebrows. He could already hear his phone ringing nonstop.

Wait…

Groping, he took his phone out of his pants and squinted at the screen, seeing that it was Pepper who was calling. He answered it, placing the phone on the table so he could continue to focus on his schematics.

He didn't look down at the screen to see her face. "It's four in the morning, Pepper. Why are you calling?"

So he might have been a bit more abrupt than usual. But it was difficult to be his usual upbeat self with guilt churning his stomach.

Pepper didn't seem to notice his abruptness, voice sounding stressed. "_I just finished a conference call with Russia._"

Looking down, Tony stopped manipulating the holograms above his pad to note that Pepper looked tired and stressed out and was currently gulping down what looked like a Red Bull. "Is that Red Bull?"

She shot him a tired glare, putting the can out of sight. "_I just said I talked to Russia and you're asking if I'm drinking Red Bull? And yes, Tony, I am. Now can you focus on what the problem is?_"

Tony really wanted to ask why she was drinking Red Bull since she'd never ever – not once in all the years Tony had known her – touched that "artificially manufactured heart attack waiting to happen" even though she'd pulled many all-nighters that would have justified it. But since Pepper had a gleam in her eyes that told him he'd better rethink that impulse, he instead asked, "Why were you talking with Russia?"

Pepper arched a disbelieving eyebrow. "_I don't think you could have missed the Great Blackout, Tony. You practically live in an electronic appliance. I've been trying to smooth over this whole mess since the satellites came back online and I haven't heard anything as to what happened to cause this._"

At that, Tony felt even guiltier as he realized no one had remembered to call Pepper and inform her as to what happened during the last so many days. She was aware of his appointment with Hansen, but she didn't know what had happened after that. As far as she knew, the appointment had gone off without a hitch.

"About that…" Tony swallowed, eyes flickering away before returning to the screen.

Pepper's eyes sharpened. "_What happened, Tony? Did something go wrong with your visit with Dr. Hansen?_"

Tony couldn't stop the frown from appearing. "She's in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"_What happened?_" Pepper asked again.

"A little hiccup, Pepper, nothing bad—"

"**_Nothing bad_**_? Tony, the world lost power for hours! The __**world**__! And that's not __**bad**__? Why is Dr. Hansen in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody when I know you can't stand Fury?_"

Tony suppressed a sigh, ducking his head to massage his forehead. He didn't really want Pepper to know that he'd been mutated into some sort of computer, but this sort of thing wasn't exactly something you hid from one of your closest friends (and ex-girlfriend). He'd learned that lesson after the palladium poisoning incident.

"_What lesson?_"

What? Tony's head snapped up in alarm. He hadn't said any of that aloud, he knew.

"_Yes, you did, Tony._"

It took him a second to realize what had happened. _Damn_ Extremis!

Pepper had a mixture of alarm and worry plastered on her face. "_Extremis?_"

Exhaling slowly through his nose, Tony focused on cutting the link he had inadvertently created to the phone. He felt the lost link as Extremis dropped it, Pepper's image on the phone unwavering even as he mentally disconnected from the phone call.

"I meant to talk with you about that," he finally said, looking up at the ceiling. "There was a little thing in Washington when I went to look at the program."

"_A little 'thing?'_" Tony could hear the quotation marks. "_Is this related to why she's with S.H.I.E.L.D.?_"

"She may or may not have been working with a terrorist organization known as A.I.M.," Tony said hurriedly. "Well, she _was_, but she's not anymore. That's been taken care of"—a flash of nausea as he remembered the sickening squelch of M.O.D.O.K.'s body hitting the wall—"but something else happened that you should probably know about."

Pepper tightened her lips, but said nothing, something which Tony was infinitely grateful for. This was difficult enough as it was. He didn't know if he could tell her if she interrupted.

"There might have been a little kidnapping incident," Tony said, poking at his tablet. "Okay, not 'might,' because it happened, but I'm here now so it's all right now."

"_Tony…_" Pepper visibly swallowed, face pinched. "_Please tell me that I didn't just hear you say that you were kidnapped._"

"You didn't just hear that," Tony said obediently.

"_Oh God._" Pepper ducked her head, hands coming up to run through her hair, completely mussing up her usually neat style. "_And this is related to the Great Blackout? Who else knows, Tony?_"

"First, please don't call it the Great Blackout. It's a horribly cheesy name that I never want to hear again. Second…no one really knows except for the terrorist organization, the Avengers, and S.H.I.E.L.D. And Spider-Man, since he was there for it."

Pepper blinked. "_I'm not going to ask._"

His eyes flickered upward to where Peggy was, silent and without judgment. He could almost hear (or maybe he could, it was difficult to tell) her support of him; it was a bit like a mental hug, giving him the courage he needed. He could even feel JARVIS's presence around him, much like a security blanket (and wasn't that something to think about).

"I managed to get out," Tony said. "Obviously, since I'm talking to you right now and I'm fine – totally fine—"

"_Tony—_"

"—but I had to buy time so I fixed the problem with Extremis. I also pissed off the leader while at it and got injected with Extremis in the process."

There was a short pause. Then: "_What?_"

Tony took a breath, released it, and said in a far calmer voice than he thought he was capable of, "I was injected with Extremis."

"_Okay._" Pepper looked like there were numerous things she wanted to say, but none of them made it past her lips. "_Is there anything else?_"

That…was far easier than Tony had thought it would be. "What about that phone call with Russia?"

To her credit, Pepper wasn't too thrown off guard at the complete non sequitur. Her mouth did do a little unhappy twist. "_The blackout has given Stark Industries a lot of bad press, Tony. The Russian government called to ask rather nicely whether or not the company was responsible for this problem._"

"That sounds rather blunt for politicians."

Pepper smiled wearily. "_Perhaps they didn't say as much in so many words, but it was certainly insinuated. I've been doing damage control since power came back on. Our main satellite was the only functioning one for hours. That raised a lot of questions. Haven't you been watching the news?_"

"I turned it off." Tony's jaw tensed for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, Pepper."

"_Tony, unless you asked to be kidnapped – and no matter how obnoxious you are I know you didn't – none of this was your fault._"

"Extremis." It was all Tony could say.

It didn't take Pepper very long to understand what Tony wasn't – couldn't – saying. "_Oh, Tony…_"

And he couldn't stand that sad, worried tone. "It was so _loud_. I just needed it to be quiet for a moment." Guilt was choking him as he remembered just reaching a mental hand out and squashing most of the noise so it wouldn't hurt him anymore. He hadn't even thought as to the repercussions (three hundred and fifty thousand people _dead_).

"_It wasn't your fault,_" Pepper said firmly. "_I wasn't there, but I know it wasn't your fault. And since you won't listen to me, you better listen to Steve and the others. What happened wasn't your fault._"

"I'm responsible for it," Tony snapped. "Do you know how easy it is to reach out and just shut off all the satellites? I can reach out to Antarctica now and turn off the power keeping the research outposts there functioning. It was me; _I_ did it."

"_Tony—_"

"Pepper, please." Tony sighed, bringing a hand up to rub his thumb along the bridge of his nose. "You called me for a reason other than to say that you were on the phone with the government of Russia."

It was probably something on Tony's face – he wasn't sure what – that told Pepper not to push it. Still, there was something in her face that told Tony this wasn't the last of it. "_I need to call a press conference, and you have to be there to give your statement. There's probably going to be one later for the Avengers. Right?_" Pepper's eyebrows were arched in that way that told Tony she'd just given him an order and it had better be followed.

That was going to be on Tony to arrange now that they were no longer part of S.H.I.E.L.D. Woo-hoo.

"Press conference. Okay." Tony nodded. "Note cards?"

"_Please. And don't go off them like you did when you announced you were Iron Man. We can't handle that at the moment._"

"That was one time." Tony didn't say that he wasn't going to announce that he was now a supercomputer capable of shutting down and/or linking into all of the world's electronics. That would open a whole new cluster fuck that no one was prepared to deal with.

"_Of course._" Now she was patronizing. "_I'll send you the details later. Get some sleep, Tony. You look like you need it._"

Pepper ended the call before Tony could say anything else. That meant he had probably upset her by refusing to talk about what had happened in greater detail.

Sighing again, Tony pushed the phone out of reach, refocusing on his tablet and the schematics of the Mark XI.

Moments later he heard Steve's familiar footsteps and felt his presence at his shoulder. He didn't react except to move a chair backwards for Steve to sit in.

After a short pause, the other man did so. "A press conference?" he asked evenly.

"Eavesdropping isn't very polite," Tony said absently, poking at the chest piece of the suit. The bigger reactor wasn't cooperating very well (it kept wanting to explode the suit the moment he would reach escape velocity, and no one would be happy with that), and he was seriously considering overhauling the arc reactor's basic design just to get the energy boost he needed.

"JARVIS told me," Steve admitted, catching Tony's attention.

"JARVIS, what the hell?" Tony scowled up at the security camera.

"I apologize, sir." JARVIS didn't sound very sorry at all. "I was concerned about your lack of sleep."

"And that was all?" Tony groused, leaning back in his chair. The back of his mind was still fiddling with the suit design and the tablet's holographic display was flashing like crazy to keep up with what his mind was doing since Extremis had so helpfully linked into it. Tony wasn't going to cut it because it was kind of cool to see it changing without any actual physical input from him.

"I woke up," Steve said. "Alone. Then JARVIS told me that my partner was sitting in the kitchen talking with Pepper when he should be sleeping. I came in just in time to hear the last part of it, when she said you had to give a statement."

Tony looked to his side to see Steve looking right at him, face determinedly set. It looked like Tony was going to be dragged to bed one way or another. "Can we just get to the part where you cart me off to bed? Because it looks like it's going that way."

"I'd rather talk about why you're not in bed to begin with."

Tony closed his eyes, exhaling softly. Images flashed behind his eyelids – pictures from millions of news sources. He closed it off, but there was still the persistent buzzing of Extremis in the back of his head. Then there was the humming of the house around him and the programs JARVIS was running. Beyond that was the world and the vast emptiness of before, threatening to swallow Tony whole if he wasn't careful.

A light touch to his arm brought him out of it. "Tony?"

Tony turned to look into worried blue eyes. Smiling tiredly, he said, "If your brain doesn't shut up, can you sleep?"

He wasn't going to mention the nightmares: the half-formed images of Afghanistan, water choking his lungs, and M.O.D.O.K. hitting the wall with a sickening squelch. He'd woken up shivering and trying to keep his gasps for air as quiet as possible. Then he'd gotten out of bed to try and take his mind off of everything that had happened.

**_Stark Industries Calls Press Conference – Tony Stark to Speak_**

Tony restrained the reflexive twitch as the headline flashed through his head without any warning. It looked Pepper had already gotten the ball rolling on the press conference. And the information she'd sent was popping up on his tablet now, displacing the image of the Mark XI armor that was still being modified.

Using Extremis, he opened the file, letting the information hang there in the air above the tablet for both of them to see. The conference was scheduled for noon that particular day, which was a nice round number and in no way interfering with any lunch plans, because Tony hadn't _had_ any. No, really.

There was a low sigh from Steve. "Can I help?"

Tony reached out, collapsing the hologram and turning the tablet off. "With?"

"Your sleeping problems." Steve reached out to rest a hand over Tony's where it was holding the tablet. "I…I can't sleep either. So maybe…maybe we can just lie in bed together?"

If Tony were feeling particularly vindictive, he could ask _why_ Steve just wanted to lie in bed if it wasn't for sleeping or having sex. But he wasn't. He was tired and wanted everything to just shut up.

"Okay," he agreed, earning himself a soft smile that made his heart melt.

They didn't run into anyone else on the way to the bedroom, which was probably because it was getting to be five in the morning. As they resettled under the blankets, Tony ended up half-sprawling across Steve, using the sound of the other's heartbeat as a focus to ground him.

Soon fingers were carding through his hair, the soothing motion releasing tension from Tony's muscles he hadn't known was there.

It was scarcely minutes when he dropped off into an exhausted sleep, lulled by the rhythmic beating of Steve's heart and the repetitive motion of fingers stroking through his hair.

* * *

It was several minutes before he was due to go out and face the press; he was standing in Stark Tower just behind the front doors, ready to march out when Pepper announced him. Tony wasn't nervous; he wasn't. He'd grown up in front of the camera for Christ's sake. But he might be the tiniest bit apprehensive about Extremis acting up. That was why he had sunglasses on hand (which he was currently polishing), and thank goodness it was sunny.

Steve wasn't with him because Tony had insisted. This was something only related to SI and if Captain America was seen backing up Tony Stark then questions would be raised. Steve had wanted to point out he was going as Tony's partner, not Captain America, but the rebuttal that reporters and the public never cared had gotten the other to grudgingly acquiescence and watch from the mansion.

"You okay, boss?" Happy asked, seeing Tony take off his sunglasses for the third time to polish them.

Tony plastered a smile on his face that didn't seem to convince Happy at all. "Never better."

"You'll get them," Happy said encouragingly.

"Yep." Tony put his sunglasses on as he tuned into one of the broadcasts on the conference. There was no need to freak Happy out about the eyes.

Pepper looked rather pale in the sunlight despite the makeup on her face, but was resolute in the face of the flashing bulbs and shouting voices.

She was just answering a question on Stark Industries' supposed involvement in the Great Blackout (Tony was going to do his damn best to come up with a new name and make it stick. The Tech Crash, maybe?). "_As of the moment, no one is certain what caused the Great Blackout. Stark Industries was just as affected as the rest of the world. Now, any further questions will be given to Tony Stark._"

That was his cue. Tuning out of the broadcast, Tony swept out of the tower, coming up to the pedestal that had been set up just for this purpose. He gave Pepper a smile, clasped her once on the shoulder, and took her place, seeing her move to stand just to the side in a show of support.

Turning to the mass of reporters, Tony cracked his familiar media smile. "Well, isn't this a stunner. When was the last time we talked like this?"

"Two months ago," a guy from a smaller newspaper called.

"Wow, was it that long ago?" Extremis helpfully pulled up the relevant news articles on him giving a speech on his relationship with Steve Rogers and that the public could kindly keep their noses out of their business. He told it to butt out and refocused on the conference. "So," he began, looking down at the note cards Pepper had very helpfully provided him in case he saw fit to pull another "I am Iron Man" stunt, "apparently we're going to deal with what happened with the blackout." He wasn't going to call it the Great Blackout; he refused.

"Were the Avengers involved?" a reporter from CNN asked, standing up.

"No comment from that side for the moment," Tony said, pointing at him with the stack of note cards. "I'm here as a representative of Stark Industries, not the Avengers. Next question. You in the green jacket."

Said man stood up. "Mr. Stark, what do you have to say about the allegations Stark Industries was responsible for the Great Blackout?"

"Well, first"—Tony put up a hand, telekinetically flicking through the cards on the pedestal so he could see what Pepper had to say on the matter before he potentially contradicted anything she'd said—"who coined the term the Great Blackout? Because I find it horribly cheesy. I vote for the Tech Crash, or maybe the Tech Fail. Or perhaps the Day When the World Lost the Internet."

"Tony," Pepper hissed.

"And second," Tony continued, seeing that Pepper had nothing to say beyond a "Don't do anything stupid, Tony" that was boldly underlined emphatically several times, meaning he was free to do what he wished, "I see no evidence to justify the accusation that Stark Industries was behind it."

"Your company's main satellite was up and running minutes after," the man pointed out, thankfully not using the name the Great Blackout (probably because he didn't want to hear Tony go off on a tangent again). "Only the products from your company were working for hours after the incident."

"Is it the company's fault that our products are that much better than anything else on the market? Our satellites are top of the line; I should know since I designed them. If the main one was up and running faster than any other satellite, it's because it's that good. The same goes for any and all Stark products. The accusation that Stark Industries was in some way responsible for this event is falsely founded, unless you have concrete evidence to back up that claim.

"Now, the lady in the absolutely marvelous purple coat."

The lady in the absolutely marvelous coat (but with a frighteningly awful hairdo) stood. "Is this in any way connected with the earlier attack on the tower in October?"

"Absolutely no evidence has revealed there to be any connection, but we'll be sure to keep you updated on that front," Tony lied smoothly. "You in the green tie." He pointed to a man in the front.

"What is Stark Industries doing to help?" the dark man with the horribly gaudy green tie asked.

"Perhaps a better question to ask Miss Potts," Tony said lightly, flicking through his cards by hand this time. The answer was close to the end. "The company has been doing everything possible to help the world recover from the damage. This includes helping out rescue organizations and giving employees emergency leave so they can help loved ones. If you want more information, it can be found on our website."

"Mr. Stark." Another man in a neatly pressed tie and a camera and mike that showed he came from FOX news stood up without Tony calling on him. "Will the Avengers be answering for this?"

Tony rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, not that anyone could see. "I'll ignore the lack of etiquette and the fact that you chose to forget my earlier statement that I'm not here as an Avenger. The team will be doing their own conference tomorrow"—since he'd had JARVIS begin putting it together after he'd woken up this morning—"so you can save all Avengers related questions for that. Now, anything else? Because if not, we'll be wrapping this up…"

* * *

Afterward, Tony could be found sitting in Pepper's office, simultaneously playing with a pen and his phone, the former twirling in the air by his ear. Pepper was steadfastly ignoring this sight; Happy had stared at him for a few moments before taking it in stride and simply retreating to the corner to look menacing.

"What time is the conference tomorrow?" Pepper asked, not looking up from her computer.

"I was thinking twelve, like today." Tony looked up from his phone, using Extremis to flick through the news articles on the press conference he'd just finished. "We'll have to do it in front of the tower."

Stark Industries was the company backing the Avengers now that they were no longer tied with S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony wasn't going to advertise the split, but it also wouldn't be a secret if anyone cared to ask or look for it.

"Is that a good idea?" Pepper asked.

"JARVIS may have sprung the ball on splitting the Avengers from S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony admitted. "So right now SI is the only backing we've got."

"JARVIS sprung the ball," Pepper repeated slowly. She shook her head questioningly. "Why did he do that?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. was being annoying." Tony gave a humorless smile. "It was for the best, Pepper. It just means I need to get the ball rolling for funding the Avengers a little faster."

"You know that the company has your back when it comes to that. We've been funding you from the start."

"I seem to recall a board member saying that it's a waste of time, money, and resources to support the Avengers."

Pepper sighed. "And I told you to ignore him—"

"And he's still on the board," Tony continued, running over Pepper's words. "Look, the team can't just rely on the company. If something happens, we're sunk."

Nodding once, Pepper acquiesced. "We'll have to draw up plans—"

Tony interrupted her again. "Already done." He pulled it up on her computer with Extremis. (When it wasn't being a presumptuous ass and pulling up articles Tony wasn't interested in, it was actually really cool.) "We're looking at a line of toys, shirts, and other items that our fans might be interested in." He quirked in his lips in a small smile. "Proceeds will either go to paying for damages incurred or to keep us stocked in food – since Thor and Steve eat enough to bankrupt most countries."

Pepper blinked, staring at the information displayed on her computer screen. "You've really thought this through."

Tony leaned back in his chair. "JARVIS has been a big help. Besides"—he snatched the pen out of the air, fingering it—"this is important."

"Well…" Pepper had a fond smile on her face. "I'm glad it's working out. Now about the conference, it won't be a problem to have it the same place. I presume you're sending out the details?"

"JARVIS is, but semantics." Tony waved a dismissive hand. "Everything's being approved by me before it goes out."

"I'm impressed."

"I could build a new company in a week. A press conference isn't a problem."

"You don't even know your social security number."

**Downloading…**

"It's nine-eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-zero," Tony said promptly. Then he hastily continued, seeing the shocked look on Pepper's face, "That was Extremis. I wouldn't know it on a good day, but starting my own company? That's easy, Pepper."

"Do I have to remind you what you did with your _last_ company? I was running it _before_ you signed it over!"

"It was fun." Tony shrugged lightly in response to the semi-murderous look Pepper shot his way. "Look, if I need to, I can start a new company from the ground up. I'd rather not, since I signed it over for a reason other than being poisoned by my own arc reactor, but the option's there."

Pepper clasped her hands together. "I bet you couldn't."

Tony shot forward, leaning over his knees. "I'll take that bet. What are the stakes?"

"It was a joke, Tony. A _joke_!"

"No, really. Stakes?"

"…A month's time of not needing to attend board meetings."

"I know you don't have any board meetings for the next month that I'm needed at, Pepper. Ten meetings I don't have to attend and I get to skip out on the next gala I don't want to go to."

"Five, and I pick which one you're not needed at."

"Eight."

"Seven."

"…Done."

* * *

After Tony finally managed to get back, he was practically ambushed in the living room by his teammates. Well, not really ambushed since no one jumped on him, but close enough because everyone was just staring at him.

Deciding to ignore them for now, Tony undid his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck. "JARVIS, make a note: I need to get a company up and running within a week. Pepper and I have a bet."

JARVIS's reply was somewhat apologetic, but not very. "Miss Potts has expressly forbidden me from helping you, sir."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I'll make the note myself then. What do you think about the Avenging Toys? Or Toy Avengers? Oh wait." He snapped his fingers. "The Avengers Shop – Here to Fulfill Your Avenging Needs."

There was a short moment of complete and utter disbelieving silence.

"Oh my God," Clint said finally. "He's lost it. It's official. I'm sorry, Steve, but your boyfriend is officially cuckoo."

"I have not lost it," Tony said with mock indignation, flapping his hand at Clint. "I am a genius."

"A genius who dumped us into a press conference without asking."

Sighing, Tony moved to shuck off his jacket. "Natasha, inform the idiot as to why we need to do press conferences after things like the Great Tech Crash."

"That's not a very good name," Bruce informed him from his spot on the couch.

"Better than the Great Blackout. God, I wanted to punch something when I heard it." Tony gave a full-body shudder, hanging his suit jacket over his arm.

"What time is it?" Steve asked, sitting on the loveseat that he and Tony usually shared on movie nights.

"Twelve. And it's in the same place as today's." Tony unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, desperately needing to get into something else that didn't reek of predatory reporters. "If that's everything, I'll be in the shop, working."

Then, before anybody else could get on his case about how he had handled the press conference, Tony fled to his workshop. He had work to do other than setting up that new company, like working on his suit. It was maddening how many models had been destroyed because some bad guys didn't know when to keep their hands off the merchandise.

Sighing once he was back in his workshop, Tony dumped his jacket on a table and leaned back against it, studying the older models that he had lined up against the wall. The Mark I was the real thing that he'd gotten back after the fight with Obadiah. Save for the Mark VIII and the Mark X, both of which had been destroyed when he had been kidnapped, all his past suits were present and accounted for.

Closing his eyes, Tony focused on using Extremis to open a new file and label it Mark XIII; considering the only suitcase armor he had left was the Mark V, he'd better work on getting another portable version that he could carry around. The Mark V was great for a last resort, but it couldn't fly, and it wasn't linked into his homing bracelets.

Mouth twisting slightly as he thought about the bracelets, Tony opened his eyes to find a blue hologram floating next to him with the specs of the Mark X. Still linked to Extremis, he began using it to discard outdated features and add new ideas he had been considering to the new version of the armor. At the same time, he manually pulled open another file and began putting in ideas for his new company.

He was going to set it up, but then let it go to run on its own with minimal input from him. There was a reason he had signed SI over, and it wasn't just because he had been dying. Running a company wasn't something Tony _wanted_ to do, although he could if he really had to. Like he'd told Pepper, it had been kind of fun (but maybe also a tad cruel) to do the least amount of work possible and let his PA pick up the slack.

Okay, put that way, it was definitely cruel. He was lucky Pepper hadn't thrown him out on his ass when he'd said that.

Darting a glance over to the side where the Mark XIII was still spinning away, albeit a bit more slowly as JARVIS was now getting into the process and discarding some of Tony's more outlandish ideas (like the rocket boosters, and Tony wasn't sure how his mind had come up with that), Tony began inputting names for the toy company he'd be setting up.

The Avenging Toys

The Toy Avengers

The Avengers Shop – Here to Fulfill Your Avenging Needs

He paused, looking at the three names he had down so far. It all sounded too angry. The second one he immediately discarded on account of it not being catchy enough. The first was okay, but made it sound like all the toys would be avenging something (technically true because it was the _Avengers_, but it might still put people off; he hadn't forgotten _Toy Story 2_). And the last was too long to really be a good sell.

Then another two names flitted across the screen, courtesy of JARVIS.

The Amazing Stark and Avengers

The Amazing Tony and His Assistants

"JARVIS," Tony drawled, looking up at the ceiling in mild reprimand. "Do you have something you want to say?"

JARVIS's reply was completely innocent and free of any plotting. "Of course not, sir."

"I didn't know you considered me to be that awesome."

"They were simply suggestions, sir."

"If my own AI is giving me suggestions calling me amazing, I think something is up," Tony said, discarding JARVIS's additions to the list.

There was a buzz in the back of his head that Tony interpreted as JARVIS humming noncommittally, but no answer was forthcoming.

Giving it up for lost, Tony refocused on the plans for the company, letting the issue of names stew for a while. He spent several minutes tapping away at plans for the toy store, making plans for ads that would be going on television and on billboards. But that was after he had some idea as to what toys and games he'd be selling.

The ringing of his phone distracted him. Before he could think about thumbing the accept button, Extremis picked it up.

Tony decided he'd try just being quiet, using Extremis to hold the call as he worked. "_Hello?_"

"_Tony, I thought we agreed that you should let me know what's going on?_" It was Rhodey. "_You tell me if there's anything that'll interfere with military operations and I'll tell you if there's anything that concerns you? I thought that was the agreement?_"

"_Don't be upset, Rhodey._" Tony swiped aside the company plans to look at the information on the military that JARVIS pulled up. "_If it makes you feel any better, Pepper didn't have any idea either._"

"_Funnily enough, that __**doesn't**__ make me feel better._"

"_Look, Rhodey, what do you want me to say? It's all very boring, run-of-the mill stuff. Nothing that'd interest you._"

"_The Great Blackout—_"

"_Not you, too!_"

"_—affected some military operations. Not all of them luckily, but enough so that we were majorly compromised in a lot of areas. A little forewarning that something like that would happen would have been nice!_"

"_I'm not gonna call you in the middle of a fight with a bad guy to tell you that we might be suffering a tiny blackout—_"

"**_Tiny?_**"

"_—so there's not much I can do other than apologize. You know that, Rhodey. What's the problem?_" He stopped scrolling through the information on downed military planes and drones in Afghanistan, feeling slightly sick. It was better that he focus on this conversation.

There was a sigh over the line. Tony wondered if he could get visual information if he got into Rhodey's phone; it did have video capabilities.

"_I'm worried about you, idiot,_" Rhodey said finally. "_There was no information on the Avengers fighting anyone, and you guys usually make the news whenever you do._"

"_You don't advertise every one of your plans because it can compromise the mission. It's not very different here. We had a private mission; that doesn't hit the news until after the fact, if at all._"

"_And will it hit the news?_"

"_We're having a press conference tomorrow. Tune in if you want._"

As he waited for Rhodey to answer, Tony caught sight of Steve entering his workshop. He waved for him to take a seat, tapping his temple with his other hand to signal that he was taking a phone call. A frown on Steve's face showed he hadn't understood, but Tony refocused on the call.

"_So I'm gonna get the kiddie approved version._"

"_I'm not gonna repeat what happened twice. If you still have questions after the conference, you can call me._"

"Tony, can we talk?" Steve asked, coming up face him on the opposite side of the still floating holograms.

"Let me finish this phone call," Tony said.

"Phone call?"

"Rhodey," Tony said as an answer.

"_Who's there, Tony?_"

"Steve," Tony answered, shaking his head slightly when Steve opened his mouth to say something. He switched back to mentally communicating with Rhodey. "_I appreciate that you're worried, Rhodey. It's heartwarming to know you care—_"

"_Of course I care, you idiot._"

"_And it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that the military's also eyeballing my company as being a likely cause of the blackout?_"

There was a short pause on the other end. "_Not in this case,_" was the eventual answer. "_Tony, we've had our disagreements, but I know you wouldn't pull a stunt like this for laughs. 'Sides, like you said today, your company's stuff is top of the line. It's not surprising that your satellite was up and running before anything else._"

Tony couldn't help but give a small smile, earning himself a strange glance from Steve. "_Thanks, bud._"

"_No prob. Call you later._"

"Bye," Tony said aloud, disconnecting the call.

"You were talking with him in your head?" Steve asked, skipping straight to the point.

"I need to get the hang of it somehow." Tony shrugged lightly, moving the holograms to the side so that he could get a clear view of Steve's face. "That's an easy and relatively risk free way to do it."

Steve's response was a simple nod as he took a breath. Then he smiled wanly. "Clint's still kind of pissed at you."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Is it my fault he can't understand that we need good press to keep operating?" he asked neutrally.

"It's not that. I think he's just upset for the sake of being upset." Steve shrugged, eyes flicking to the side as one of the screens flipped upside down, lines of code scrolling down it. "We're all still kind of on edge."

Tony glanced to the side, checking to see if it was something his brain was doing or something JARVIS was doing for fun. It turned out to be JARVIS looking through headlines. "You said you wanted to talk."

"About tomorrow."

"How about I give you note cards. You're good with note cards, yeah?"

Steve's lips twitched, but he didn't rise to the bait. "Are we going in uniform?"

"It's related to the Avengers," Tony said, opening a new holographic screen with his mind and pulling up the information on the press conference for tomorrow. It was already packed full. "We're going as a superhero team. For best impression, we should probably go in uniform." He flipped the screen around so Steve could see the information. "I'll stay out of the suit if that's what you're wondering." A flicker of Steve's eyes proved that he'd hit the nail on the head. "I'll keep the Mark V with me, though." He managed a smile. "One of us should probably appear somewhat approachable, and Tony Stark is a friendlier face than a man in an armored suit."

"If you ask me," Steve said, "you're both giant teddy bears."

"You're _sleeping_ with me."

"Put _that_ way…" Steve smiled beatifically. "So, you going to tell us what to say tomorrow? Or are you going to sit back and cackle when someone asks us if we do team orgies?"

"That was _one_ time. _One time_," Tony protested. "You can't blame me for laughing at that ridiculous question. Besides," he added, pointing to a new screen that showed a picture of Steve blushing like a fire engine at that particular press conference, "you can't blame me for enjoying the view."

The comment earned him a hard kiss and some screeching as various alarms went off due to his brain (and Extremis) going haywire. It was a moment's work to disconnect Extremis, and then Tony could focus on Steve, who was tugging rather insistently at his shirt.

Well, he had never been one to say no to sex…

* * *

It was more trouble than it was worth getting everyone ready for the press conference. Sure, everyone was dressed and ready to go with no problems, but then there was the fact that there needed to be a table and chairs so that it didn't look like a bunch of superheroes were staring disapprovingly down at a horde of reporters. Plus the note cards, which Clint had threatened to torch if they were just prompt words, and Tony was ready to explode something by the time it was twelve.

He was never complaining about press conferences again.

No, wait, he was. Because they were boring and stupid and you had to watch your mouth in case you caused some sort of international incident. But he had a whole new level of respect for Pepper and whoever she used to organize these shindigs. Because even with JARVIS's help, there was a lot he needed to approve before anything could happen. (Or maybe JARVIS was just being an ass and annoying Tony, which was also totally possible.)

But well, Tony's point was that although the whole thing was a pain, it was put together with little problem in the end. So at twelve the following day, the Avengers found themselves seated in front of Stark Tower, in uniform, and ready to answer questions. Tony was two out of the three, but that was still better than usual so he wasn't complaining (nor should anyone else).

After a quick glance to make sure everyone had their note cards so they had all the essential bases (and some) covered, and another up to the sky to curse the lack of sun, Tony turned to the crowd before them. He tapped the Mark V with his shoe, feeling reassured with its familiar comforting hum that wasn't Extremis-provided. It was powered down, so it wasn't like Extremis could even access it, although it _wanted_ to. (Or was that Tony's brain, considering he was Extremis and Extremis was him?)

Closing his eyes quickly to check the news feeds, Tony saw everything was up and running. Opening them again, he saw Pepper give him the go ahead nod from her place behind him (he had a mirror conveniently placed for that exact purpose).

"Well now," Tony said pleasantly, instantly getting everyone's attention, "this is a much bigger crowd than yesterday. If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't like me."

There was a ripple of forced laughter from the crowd, and Tony saw Natasha's plastered smile twitch in annoyance.

"So…" Tony inclined his head to Steve, indicating he should start.

"I'm sure you all have questions," Steve began without missing a beat. "We can't answer all of them because of security reasons, but we'll answer those we can." There was a moment of expectant silence before he added, "We'll take them now."

There was immediately an outburst of noise as all the reporters clamored to get their questions in before the other. It was funny how these "professionals" lost their cool the moment there was a free for all.

"One at a time!" Steve barked into the microphone, getting instant silence. "Thank you. Go ahead." He nodded at a primly dressed woman in a business suit.

The reporter stood. "Were the Avengers involved in the Great Blackout?"

The others shot glances at Tony, but he remained silent even as he internally winced at the name.

"That depends on your definition of 'involved,' ma'am," Steve responded, eyes flicking back to the reporter. "We were not responsible for it."

That was such a blatant lie Tony was surprised it wasn't written all over Steve's face.

The next reporter to speak was a young man. "Was this related to the earlier incident at Stark Tower?"

"The same organization was behind it," Steve confirmed. "Advanced Idea Mechanics – or A.I.M. – was responsible for the attack on the tower. The same group was most likely also behind the blackout."

"What were the Avengers doing during the Great Blackout?" a woman called.

"As I said before, ma'am, we were not involved. We were tracking A.I.M. when the blackout occurred; as of yet, we don't know what happened anymore than you do."

"Mr. Stark! What do you have to say on the blackout?"

Tony looked over at the CNN reporter who'd asked that question. "As an Avenger," he started slowly and clearly, "I'm just as in the dark as my teammates. As an engineer, I have to say that whatever took out power was pretty damn powerful. If I had to guess, it probably came from space." True enough. If Tony hadn't been responsible for it and was trying to figure out where it came from, he'd first look at space, since that was where it was easiest to get the entirety of Earth at once.

Clint gave a small snort at Tony's last line, but said nothing.

"Captain! What about Spider-Man?" This time it was a man from the _Daily Bugle_. "How is he involved in this? He and Iron Man fought together in October, didn't they?"

Tony shot Steve a look to signal that he'd take this one despite the question being addressed to Captain America. "Let me preface any statements I make by asserting that Spider-Man is an Avenger." On cue, the reporters broke out into a loud hullaballoo, and Tony continued speaking calmly, "And that means that any statements made slandering Spider-Man will be taken as slander toward the Avengers."

"Do you know his identity?"

"No, and I'm not going to ask." Tony inclined his head. "Give the guy some privacy. He's putting his neck out on the line to do his job." He took a breath. "He saved my life."

"Was he involved in the events leading up to the blackout?"

How did they get from "He saved my life" to "Spider-Man is guilty!"? Seriously, the minds of reporters were just _bizarre_.

"He came with us, yes," Steve confirmed before Tony could say anything.

The next reporter who spoke was in the back, standing up before he did. "What about the allegations that Iron Man is a mutant?"

There was a sudden hush over the crowd. Tony could feel his friends stiffen by his sides; in the mirror's reflection, Pepper brought her hand up reflexively, only to bring it back down a second later.

But Tony himself was slightly dumbstruck. Allegations? _What_ allegations? If there had been any before, he would've known about them. There was no way S.H.I.E.L.D. would have released such classified information; the X-Men were private and would keep their mouths shut; his teammates would die rather than gossip about stuff like that.

Yet to the point, he had to answer that. He couldn't lie; the truth would get out sooner or later, and then he'd have to face the music.

Tony leaned forward, flashing a charming smile. "True."

There were another few seconds of absolute silence before every reporter was on their feet, shouting questions at the same time.

Tony leaned back in his chair, slinging his arm over his backrest, catching Steve's eyes as he did. Steve had a "Tony, what are you doing?" face. Tony gave him a quick finger flick to signal "later" before returning his attention to the crowd. Stay relaxed, and they couldn't find much to feed on.

He could lose it later when in private.

"One at a time," Tony drawled, swiping a hand sideways to call for quiet. The movement instantly hushed everyone, their eyes fixated on him. "My hearing hasn't gotten any better. One question from each row; pick amongst yourselves."

An Asian man spoke first. "How long?"

"How long have I been a mutant, or how long did I know?" Tony continued speaking. "It's genetic, so lifelong. I've known since I was a teenager. Next."

"Was your team aware of this?"

"They were aware. Next."

"Are you affiliated with the X-Men?"

Tony shifted to a more professional position. "I greatly respect Professor Xavier for his work and skills. However, aside from knowing them on a purely professional basis, I am not in any way affiliated with the X-Men. I am an Avenger both inside and outside my suit; whether I am a mutant has no bearing on my membership."

"Why was the public not made aware of this earlier?"

For the love of _God_ (and he was an atheist!).

"It was a private matter, not something to be released to the public."

"What is your ability?"

"If I told you that, every villain on the planet would know, and that would defeat the point." Tony raised an eyebrow, racking his gaze over the crowd. "If that's all the pertinent, non-invasive questions, I'll ask if you have anything else relating to what happened over the last couple days regarding the blackout. If not, we're done."

Tension racketing up his spine and a mild buzz-induced headache pounding at his temples from Extremis, Tony didn't think he could do much more without losing his strong front. The dozens of news feeds that were being fed to him by Extremis were clamoring for his attention even as he pushed them to the background of his mind. He desperately needed some peace and quiet so he could sort through whatever the hell Extremis was doing.

And smooth over whatever issue Natasha had with him, since she was giving him the evil eye without even looking at him.

* * *

Fortunately for Tony, no one said anything about the complete curve ball the press conference had thrown until they were back home. That meant he could spend the ride back with his eyes closed and linked into Extremis, digging into the news and any other sources that might show how these "allegations" of him being a mutant had come out.

When it came to the news, there was nothing until the press conference, when it had been brought up. Elsewhere, Tony couldn't find anything using conventional means (not that Extremis was conventional, but it was still the Internet) so he decided to go unconventional when he was alone. That would involve more time and hacking into any technology the reporters had brought, if he could even do that. If it didn't work, he'd just have to focus on making sure nothing _else_ leaked, like the fact he was now a cyber human.

That would be horrendously bad.

Of course, it was pretty bad already when Natasha turned on him the moment the door closed. "What was _that_, Tony?"

"You mean the conference? I thought it went rather well all things considered." Tony pushed the Mark V to the side with a foot, tired of lugging it around.

"You don't confirm things like that!"

"I couldn't have lied," Tony pointed out. "It'd have come out eventually. If I'd lied it would've looked like I was ashamed of it. And I'm not. I'm a mutant, and the world had better get used to that."

"I think the problem is that these guys even knew about it in the first place," Clint said, shooting Natasha a quelling look. "Not how you handled it, Tony. That was pretty good, but you could've been a bit smoother with ending it."

"If I went all soft, they would've thought something was wrong. Me being my general charming personality was expected; now they'll just be running papers on whether I'm stable enough to be the major stock holder of SI rather than digging through every dirty deed in my past to see what was up."

"They already do that," Bruce pointed out.

"It'd be worse."

Steve sighed, catching everyone's attention. "I think we should focus on how they even knew in the first place."

"Working on it," Tony and JARVIS said simultaneously.

"I have been looking into it since it was brought up," JARVIS continued.

"And I've been doing it since we were on the way home," Tony added. "Haven't gotten far, though. JARVIS?"

"I am still searching."

"What about us?" Clint demanded. "I'm not just going to sit around twiddling my thumbs."

"Neither will I," Natasha said firmly. "A threat against you is a threat against all of us."

Tony stared at her. "No one's _threatening_ anyone!"

"They didn't find out by accident," Bruce said. "Someone told them. How much do you want to bet it was A.I.M.?"

"If they dare come after you again," Thor rumbled, "they will face my wrath and that of Mjölnir."

Tony raised both eyebrows. "Thanks, but I don't think we're that desperate yet. We're going to figure out what happened; it might just have been a smart guy looking at photos and videos and putting two and two together. I haven't exactly been hiding it."

"Chances are it wasn't," Bruce said.

"A guy can dream," Tony said, flashing a cheery smile. "Now, what say you to watching the news? It looks marvelously interesting."

"I'll bet," Clint muttered, arms folded across his chest.

Ignoring him, Tony mentally picked up his suitcase armor and let it trail after him as he walked to the living room, Steve directly behind him. He tuned into the mansion's electronics as he did, curious to see what his bots were doing.

Dummy, You, and Butterfingers were doing something in the workshop. JARVIS was busy trying to find out who'd snitched on Tony being a mutant. Peggy was absently humming to herself. And Spike was apparently purring.

Which was strange because he wasn't a cat. Or any other animal that purred.

The question as to Spike's purring was answered when they entered the living room and saw Logan sprawled on the couch, a content Spike on his stomach, and the TV on a news channel that was not covering the Avengers' press conference.

"Afternoon," Logan said, not taking his eyes off the TV screen. He didn't move Spike either; his fingers were stroking the AI's power cord, a particularly sensitive part of Spike.

"How'd you get inside?" Clint asked before anyone else could.

"Your house let me in. I didn't know you needed a computer that talks back, Stark."

"For the record, JARVIS could make you disappear without a sound," Tony said, feeling an undercurrent of amusement from JARVIS. "Why are you here anyway?"

"The professor was worried."

"The _professor_ was worried?" Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow while mentally switching the TV channel to one that was covering the press conference.

Now Logan did look at him, scowling. "I was watching that!"

"And now you're not."

"Should we be worried?" Bruce asked, glancing between the two of them.

"Logan's good," Tony said. "Unless you're worried about him stealing your spot; there's no hope of that. You're still my science bro."

"Stop flirting," Natasha ordered, sitting down on Logan's legs without a moment's hesitation.

"Oi!" Logan growled, squirming.

"Problem?" Natasha smiled sweetly at him.

With a small huff, Logan settled back down, still tugging at Spike's power cord. To Tony's amusement, the motion hadn't stopped once. It seemed that Logan didn't care about appearing like a softie anymore.

"Do you know who might have told them?" Steve asked, getting Logan's attention.

"Wasn't one of us," Logan asserted. "Maybe you should look closer to home."

"It wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony said, leaning back against the wall. "Unless you count people hacking into their mainframe as telling, in which case it was them."

"They were hacked?" Clint asked sharply.

Oh yeah… He'd never told them, had he?

"A.I.M. knows," Tony said slowly, "because they hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe. Didn't help them much in the long run, though."

"There's your culprit," Logan said, turning back to the TV with a bored expression.

"I wiped the mainframes before I left," Tony said, frowning. "There's no way M.O.D.O.K. let everyone know about it."

"You couldn't get everyone who did know," Natasha pointed out.

"We will find the party responsible for this travesty," Thor stated.

Tony exhaled slowly. "There's no need to go all crazy like the bride on us. We can do this without injuring, handicapping, incapacitating, or murdering anyone."

"You forgot beheading," Logan said.

"_We're not killing anyone_," Tony corrected sharply. "At least until we can figure this out."

Steve looked at him, hair adorably tousled from the cowl (which Tony had noticed before, but damn, that was distracting). "Where do we start?"

"_You_ don't have to do anything," Tony said. "JARVIS and I will take care of it."

"We already said we're not just gonna sit around and do nothing," Clint pointed out obstinately. "So let's try that again."

"You said that," Tony disagreed, "Steve didn't."

"I refuse to sit around doing nothing," Steve said.

Clint triumphantly pointed at him. "He agrees!"

"So do I," Bruce added.

"I as well," Thor agreed.

"That goes the same for me," Natasha said. "Different plan, Stark."

Logan had the mildly interested face of one watching a tennis game, but he offered no help for or against Tony.

"You two are spies," Tony told Natasha and Clint. "Aren't you just going to do whatever you wanted to do without me saying anything?"

Natasha smirked while Clint said, "Doesn't mean we don't give you the illusion of control."

"Go be spies then." Tony flapped a hand in their direction. He turned to the others. "You guys have all the subtlety of bricks."

"Pot, meet kettle," Bruce commented dryly.

"I can be subtle," Tony protested, mildly insulted. "I can be so subtle you don't even know I'm there."

"Your suit isn't exactly subtle," Steve said gently.

"I'm not talking about the _suit_. Have you all completely forgotten about my tech skills? I can be in and out of a secure mainframe without anyone the wiser."

"True," Natasha conceded, nodding once.

"That isn't the point," Steve argued. "Can't we help?"

"You can help by having my back," Tony said, smiling tightly.

"I am offended that you would think otherwise," Thor said, sounding offended.

"So am I," Bruce said.

Seeing that he wasn't going to get his team or partner to back down from this, Tony considered what he could have them do. The perfectionist in him chafed at giving them anything to do about this, considering how important it was to him. It had to be done right, and the only way he could ensure that was by doing it himself. (He'd learned his lesson with Obadiah.) Then again, if he couldn't trust his team, who could he trust?

This wasn't going to be a one-person job, and Tony couldn't do it all, no matter how much he wished he could. He had enough on his plate as it was. JARVIS was great, but even he couldn't do everything. If this was going to be solved, Tony would have to make concessions, starting with delegating some of the stuff he didn't have to check into immediately because it wasn't his specialty.

"You two do what you need to," Tony told Clint and Natasha. "You know what you're doing better than I do. And you guys can check into whatever JARVIS finds," he told the others. "Or what he gives you. I assume he'll know what I need to see for myself."

_ I am offended that you would think otherwise, sir._

_Just making sure, JARVIS._ Tony's lips twitched into a grin so the AI could see his amusement on his cameras (admittedly, he couldn't help it).

"What are you so happy about?" Clint asked suspiciously.

"I wouldn't ask that if I were you," Logan said in complete seriousness. "You might not like the answer."

Clint stared at Logan for a long moment before throwing up his hands. "Fine. If the guy petting a coffee machine is telling me not to ask, I won't. Come on, Nat. We'll get started before Tony decides to pack us with tech we don't need."

Natasha got off Logan's legs and followed Clint out, ignoring Tony calling after her. "I'll have you know that anything I give you is completely necessary!"

"You gave Natasha a hair clip that complimented her every move and Clint a ring that cracked jokes," Steve pointed out, amused.

"It was to stave off boredom," Tony said seriously, suppressing a smirk. "How else do you think they'll get by on those long stakeout missions without coffee?"

"See, bub," Logan said to Spike, who was now snoozing on his stomach, "your dad has a few screws loose in the head."

"I'm _dating_ him," Steve said sharply.

Logan looked at him blankly. "Oh. Good luck then." He adjusted to make himself more comfortable. "You'll need it."

Spike gave a sleepy snort, and Tony decided it wasn't worth the effort to dump Logan on the floor. Not when Bruce looked like he was stifling laughter and even Thor seemed vaguely amused.

* * *

In the late afternoon when Steve was busy in the kitchen, Bruce was down in his lab, and Clint and Natasha were still off to parts unknown, Tony joined Logan in the living room. There was a reason Logan was there, and Tony suspected it wasn't just to spend time with Spike, though that was probably a bonus.

"So," Tony began, sitting down on the chair next to the couch Logan was still stretched out on, "what do you want?" Spike was still curled on Logan's stomach, but sleepily drifted over to Tony's lap, curling up there with a satisfied hum.

"You're awfully suspicious, Stark."

"I have no suspicions," Tony said imperiously, shifting slightly so Spike wasn't digging into his groin. "I have knowledge. You're here for a reason. Cough it up."

Logan raised an eyebrow, staring impassively at Tony.

"Unless it's a hairball; in that case, go to the bathroom."

"I'm not a cat," Logan growled, propping himself up on his elbows to glare at Tony.

"A wolverine is a type of cat," Tony pointed out conversationally. "Since your codename is Wolverine, I suppose an argument could be made—" A growl cut him off. "Which I'll keep to myself," he amended smoothly. "For now."

Logan grunted in satisfaction and relaxed back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling while Tony watched the TV. It was still turned to the news channel that he had turned it to earlier that day, but wasn't showing anything new other than the footage from the press conference and sound bites from various people on the street and so-called scientific experts.

"The professor was worried," Logan finally said, his eyes moving over to land on Tony.

"How did he know?" Tony asked. A second later: "No, don't tell me. It was that giant machine he keeps in the basement, wasn't it?"

"The worst kept secret in the mansion, I swear," Logan growled, rolling his eyes.

"No one told me about it," Tony said, amused. "But it's kind of hard to hide something that big from the guy who senses technology. Xavier explained after I asked what it was that was driving me crazy. Let me guess: was he linked into it when I went off grid?"

"You're never _off_ grid with Cerebro," Logan said, shrugging lightly. "You're off the mark; he smelled something fishy when you up and left for Asia."

"You sure it wasn't you?"

"We take care of our own," Logan said, looking sharply at Tony. "You're an Avenger, Stark, but you're also a mutant. That makes you one of us."

"I'm not an X-Man," Tony pointed out. "I refuse to wear one of those eyesores you guys call uniforms. They're a safety hazard."

"You fly around in a metal can that's red and gold and fight with a guy in a red, blue, and white suit."

"That _metal can_ is a hundred times safer than anything you wear; so is Steve's suit."

"Whatever." Logan waved a dismissive hand. "You're annoying, Stark, and _maybe_ you're not on our team, but that doesn't change anything. He sent me over to check on you, a good idea seeing what happened." He gestured in the direction of the TV and the clip of Tony confirming that he was a mutant.

"That wasn't planned." Tony looked away, not needing to see it happen again.

"Obviously." Logan slid up the couch so his back was propped up against the armrest. "But this leads to a bit of a sticky situation."

Tony frowned, eyes snapping over to Logan. "What do you mean?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "You've got your fingers in all the pies, Stark. Don't tell me you don't know what's going on."

"I've been a bit busy in the last several months," Tony snapped, something niggling at the back of his mind. "It's not like I've been able to keep up with everything going on in the underworld."

"It's been in talks for years," Logan said, face impassive. "Guy like you would've been keeping an eye on it."

"The Mutant Registration Act?" Tony asked, though something told him that wasn't it. "That went off the books years ago, Logan. I was an anonymous donor against it."

"Fat lot of help that did," Logan said, snorting.

"I wasn't out then." Tony tightened his lips. "The board and Stane wouldn't have stood for my company making a public stance against it."

"Ain't saying anything about it," Logan remarked, folding his arms. He was silent for a moment longer. "No, that isn't it. This is a little bigger in scope than the MRA ever was. Guy like you should've heard about it, seeing you're a futurist and all."

Tony was beginning to get a sick feeling in his stomach. He hadn't lied to Logan when he'd said he was a bit busy the last several months. It wasn't like he could keep on top with every act being introduced or drafted in Congress, though he tried to after the government's attempt at confiscating the suit. But he _had_ heard whispers about laws involving people with powers, especially after Richards's crew had their accident in space. That had spiked after Iron Man had made his appearance, but it had lessened during the short time he'd privatized world peace.

Following Loki's attack, Senator Boyd had made another case against super humans like Captain America due to the overwhelming scale of damage caused to New York and the presence of another superhero team that didn't answer to the government. The momentary backlash against that suggestion because of the goodwill toward the Avengers had shelved the concept for a brief period of time, but no goodwill lasted forever, especially when it came to the fickle public.

"I've heard some things," he admitted slowly, "but nothing ever came of it."

"You've been good," Logan agreed. "But nothing good lasts forever. We've been keeping an eye on it." "Unlike you" went unspoken.

Tony stopped himself from snapping that he had his own issues to deal with. If this was true, and his outing as a mutant had tipped the scales for the worst, he was going to have a lot more to deal with than Extremis and A.I.M.

"You've got the eyes of the government on you, Stark," Logan said with a grin, though there was no amusement in it. "I gotta say, I don't envy you."

"What is it?" Tony asked, a feeling of dread slowly spreading through his body.

"Officially, it doesn't yet have a name. Like you said, it's just been whispers." Logan shrugged. "But now…there might actually be something to it."

"Unofficially, Logan," Tony said sharply. "If something's coming up, I need to tell my team."

"We know it as the registration act," Logan said, face serious. "The Superhuman Registration Act."

* * *

**The author would like to apologize for antagonizing the bees in the middle of the vehicle. Please remain calm and don't panic. Allergy shots can be found in the front of the main cabin or in the seat pocket in front of you. If in need, we also offer protective suits, but they are in short supply.**

******Comments, critiques, and complaints are greatly appreciated (and may be considered depending on their type - flames are not accepted, but will provide amusing fodder). The author **hopes you enjoyed the first part of the ride An Alternative State of Mentality.


	2. Part II

**Welcome back to An Alternative State of Mentality! We have been unable to contain the bees, so please be cautious. The author will do her best to make this journey a smooth one. Allergy shots can be found in the front seat pocket or in the main cabin. We also offer safety suits, but supply is limited. Once again, please keep your heads, hands, and feet inside the ride at all times, and keep your seat belt firmly fastened. We do hope you enjoy the second part of our ride.**

**DISCLAIMER: The author owns none of the included franchises. For the purposes of this ride, the second _Fantastic Four_ movie is considered null and void.**

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

"_He's spent so many years hiding this from the public! How do we know he isn't hiding anything else?_"

"_He isn't any more dangerous than any other person. It's his business, his privacy, and his own decision. Can't we leave the man alone?_"

"_The problem isn't Tony Stark. The problem is that we don't know how many other people are just like him and hiding under our noses. How can we feel safe if we don't know whether our neighbor or employer is one of __**them**__?_"

"_It's unnatural, that's what it is. I always knew something was off with Stark._"

"_It's a gene that gives them these abilities. It's no more unnatural than our skin or eye color. He's just different, but is that so bad? He's done so much to help the public, we should just leave him in peace!_"

"_We always attack those that are different, and it's time that changes. Tony Stark is just a scapegoat for another social movement that is a long time in coming._"

"_I have the utmost respect for Mr. Stark. He's one of the most brilliant minds in our world. I have nothing against him, but I am affirming what many have already said: Mr. Stark is simply the tip of the iceberg. He might not be dangerous, but the dangerous mutant known as Magneto is still out there, as are others that bear a grudge against regular humans. How are we to defend ourselves if we don't know who they are? This is why I call for a registration act—_"

"_It's a joke, that's what the registration act is. They tried this with the MRA years ago, but it didn't work. Who's to say it'll work now? What makes them think that the bad guys are going to register? They're not; they're going to stay hidden, while the good guys – the ones that follow the law – are going to register and find themselves discriminated against. Racism and sexism are still rampant today; how much worse do you think it will be for people who have abilities that scare us?_"

"_—we're scared of them and with good reason. The question isn't whether Tony Stark is dangerous to us. Of __**course**__ he's dangerous. It doesn't matter whether he'll ever attack us like the Brotherhood has because the truth is that he has the potential, and it will always be an option for a man like him._"

"_He had the potential to attack us before with that suit of his, but used it to help people. How is this any different? The revelation that he's a mutant doesn't change anything, except to tell everyone else that they probably shouldn't mess with the Avengers. A genius and a mutant? I'd take my chances elsewhere and so should anyone else if they know what's good for them._"

"_We're entrusting our safety to a team filled with mental head cases that are liable to go rogue at any moment. A super soldier from the nineteen-forties that no one really knows about other than he's a remnant of a super secret government project, a giant monster that no one can control, two spies and assassins from an organization no one is sure about, a supposed god, and a man who's now been outed as a mutant who goes around wearing a destructive suit. How are we supposed to trust them if we can't take care of them if they go rogue?_"

"_We need heroes. We need to see that being different doesn't necessarily mean being bad. Considering the backlash right now, can you really blame him for keeping it a secret for so long?_"

"_—where was he during the Mutant Registration Act? That's what I'd like to know!_"

"_It was bad enough knowing that Captain America was dating a man. Knowing that he's dating a mutie who's a man and knew about it is just too disgusting—_"

"_If so-called heroes like Spider-Man have a free card because they're a member of the Avengers, we'll be overrun by lawless vigilantes who get free passes because they're associated with someone like Tony Stark or Captain America. We need accountability—_"

"_The MRA was a good idea, if flawed. It was too restrictive in its scope. We live in an era where mutants are not the only threat to our society, and we need to adjust accordingly._"

"_—this is not a response to Tony Stark being a mutant, although we understand how it could be seen that way. We have been considering such an act for a number of years considering the rise of super humans in our society. With the potential danger that untrained super humans such as Spider-Man pose to our society, we look for a way to help lessen that danger. This is why we are looking at introducing the Superhuman Registration Act…_"

* * *

"Not _now_, Dummy! I can't at the moment!"

_**Sorry!**_ Dummy skittered off to his brothers, suitably chastised.

Growling in frustration under his breath, Tony returned his attention to the developing of his new company: The Avengers Toy Store. It was the worst possible time for a new company specifically geared toward marketing Avengers' merchandise to go out, but it was the one of the most harmless ways Tony could think of to help lessen the public backlash against the team since the press conference.

Besides, they still needed the funding, especially after how SI's board was being jerks about the whole thing. Pepper had managed to get them in line, reminding them that Stark Industries had a zero-tolerance discrimination policy, which included mutants. Still, that meant that Tony had better not step on more toes than he could manage at the moment.

Over the past week, he had barely gotten more than three days' worth of sleep, far too busy with the _completely_ necessary work that he had to take care of. Steve wasn't happy with him one iota, but Tony couldn't help it. Steve would just have to settle for it at the moment because there was nothing else he _could_ do, short of letting it all burn.

With Extremis, S.H.I.E.L.D., the Superhuman Registration Act (or SHRA as it was now known to a very divided public), the question as to who had outed Tony to the media, and dealing with the public backlash to the revelation, Tony barely had time to attend to his own basic needs, let alone a relationship.

Extremis beeped softly in the back of his mind, an alert that another decision had been made regarding the progress of SHRA. Sighing lightly, Tony leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he accessed the report and the accompanying video of the meeting. It was definitely illegal, considering it was the government's confidential records he was accessing at the moment, but he didn't exactly care.

What he read was both heartening and nerve wracking. The SHRA wouldn't move forward at the moment considering how divided the public was about forcing super humans to register. Many were calling it a violation of civil liberties to force super humans to divulge their secret identities. Others were arguing for it, pointing to the potential danger of having masked superheroes running rampant.

Both sides had a point, and it was clear to the government that with public opinion as divided as it was, passing the SHRA now would lead to something ugly happening. As it stood now, they were waiting for something to tip the scales in either direction.

Essentially, it all stood on whether the Avengers would be able to regulate themselves well enough that the government couldn't step in. It might not even be a problem if Tony hadn't separated them from S.H.I.E.L.D., but that was something that couldn't be fixed now considering that particular bridge had been burned to the ground. In any case, Tony wasn't sure if he _wanted _to fix it. Being under the authority of S.H.I.E.L.D. carried far more risks than benefits, and it was doubtful the public would accept it anyway, since S.H.I.E.L.D. was such a "shady organization."

Exhaling slowly, Tony closed the report down, leaning forward to hide his face in his hands. It was progress of a sort, even if it placed a great deal of pressure on his shoulders and that of the Avengers. The fact that he had been injected with Extremis absolutely could _not _get out. It couldn't.

It didn't matter that he had mostly managed to get the hang of it. A comment made by Logan the second day of his stay (he had his own room now, since he hadn't left to return to Westchester, and Tony couldn't be bothered to ask why) about how Tony was now a computer and could just program himself had given him an epiphany he should have thought of himself.

Tony would pin the blame on the fact that he had been concerned with the power outage he had caused.

Regardless, Logan's surprisingly insightful comment had led to Tony delving into his brain and Extremis to install a series of programs that would stop it from doing things willy-nilly (or whenever a random thought popped into Tony's mind, like when it had pulled up all the issues of _National Geographic_ after a stray thought about pandas). Now, all Tony would have to do was focus his mind on a specific thought or think of a command phrase to access Extremis's more advanced functions.

(It was actually a lot more complicated than that, but Tony wasn't going to get into all the little details. It was inane and not something he wanted to do considering it was mostly dealt with. He was still benched for now because Steve wanted to be sure the problem was entirely taken care of, but that didn't really matter since Tony would go out if he was needed – benched or not.)

Busy as he was, Tony hadn't been able to do much regarding S.H.I.E.L.D., although it was critically important he finish it up. Considering the timing of Hansen coming to him with Extremis, the cluster fuck that had occurred right after it, and SHRA now, Tony thought there was a lot more going on behind the scenes there than he had initially noticed.

But he hadn't been able to do much about it, and he should probably focus on that now—

Alarms blared in his workshop and in his mind, and Extremis pulled up a video of the outside and what looked like a giant circle on his backyard with a figure standing in it, holding something very familiar that Tony had hoped never to see again because it had been returned to Asgard with Loki.

"JARVIS," Tony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a thumb. "Contact Pepper and ask her if we can reschedule the bet."

"What should the reason be, sir?"

Tony looked at the feed of a tall black-haired woman in Asgardian armor holding the Tesseract. "Unforeseen circumstances. I have to see to our new guest. It would've been nice if Thor had let me know we were expecting visitors."

Wisely, JARVIS chose not to comment on that. Tony could feel him linking with the e-mail network and tuned out so as to close down his projects. He had a mild headache pressing in on his right temple that was probably from stress and not sleeping or eating enough, but some coffee would probably take care of that.

By the time Tony made it into the living room (which for some strange reason had become the unofficial meeting room) with a cup of coffee courtesy of Spike, the new Asgardian was being entertained by every member of the team that was there, which included everyone but Clint and Natasha. They had been just as elusive as Tony had been this past week, an argument he had used against Steve when the other had tried to get him to sleep. Steve hadn't been very pleased.

Pushing aside thoughts about their relationship (or the lack of at the moment), Tony focused on their guest. "Do you mind introducing me to our guest?" He shot Thor a pointed look. "I didn't know we were expecting anyone."

"Anthony!" Thor beamed, an arm clasped around the fierce looking woman. "I would be most pleased to introduce you to one of my most cherished friends and one of Asgard's most fierce warriors, the warrior Sif!"

"Anthony?" Sif asked, arching an elegant eyebrow. Even with her reputation as a fierce warrior, she had the look of a regal woman about her. Yet her bearing and the look of her armor and weapons told Tony that she would be just as fearsome as Natasha in a fight.

"Tony Stark," Tony said. "Unless you're Thor, in which case it's Anthony."

"Anthony then," Sif said, smiling in amusement. "It is an honor to meet Thor's Midgardian friends." She looked around at Bruce and Steve. "You must be great fighters for Thor to speak so highly of you."

Logan loomed in the doorway, a scowl on his face. "What's with the alarms?" he growled. Catching sight of Sif, Thor with an arm around her, and everyone else, he gave the room one more cursory glance before turning heel and leaving, muttering under his breath something about "crazy ass gods" and "drinking games."

"That's Logan," Tony added before anyone else could. "Ignore him." He gave Sif a charming smile. "What brings you here?"

"Is the Bifrost repaired?" Thor asked eagerly, turning to fully face Sif.

"It isn't." Sif's smile dropped to give way to a more serious expression. "Your father used the Tesseract to send me here." Her eyes dropped to the glowing cube sitting at her feet, still encased in the container Tony and Bruce had built for it months ago. "We are to use it for our return."

Thor's hand dropped from Sif's shoulder to his side, and Tony could actually see what kind of king he would eventually become. "What is it, Sif? Father would not send you here with such a method unless it was a grave matter."

"It is Loki," Sif said after a breath. "And the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim. Something is coming. I was sent to tell you and ask if you would return to aid us."

Thor's mouth tightened for a moment. Then he opened it, took a breath…and said nothing. His expression was deeply conflicted.

Finally, he said, "I would confer with my team. I trust it is not a most urgent matter?"

Sif's expression was indiscernible. "There is still time."

"Then allow me a day," Thor pleaded. "Two of our number are not present at this time, and it would be best if they were here to offer their counsel."

"JARVIS," Tony said, not looking away from the two gods in their presence, "would you?"

"Of course, sir." JARVIS began the process of contacting Clint and Natasha's communicators to let them know.

To her credit, Sif didn't flinch from the sound of an unexpected voice without a body. Her hand did go to her sword, though, so that was a point deducted. "What is that?" she demanded.

"It is JARVIS," Thor said soothingly, placing his hand on the one that was on Sif's sword. "Anthony's child."

Tony blinked, disconcerted. "That's one way to explain who he is," he muttered, drawing amused looks from Steve and Bruce.

"Some would also call him his butler," Bruce explained to Sif. "It means he helps Tony out. He'll help you, too, if you ask him for something."

"He has been most helpful during my stay," Thor agreed, grinning. "He is much like Heimdall."

Sif still looked wary, but she did take her hand off her sword. "If you say so."

"I wouldn't go in the kitchen if I were you," Bruce said. "We have a sentient stove and coffee machine and both can be slightly excited around new people."

"Peggy and Spike are perfectly well behaved," Tony protested, miffed.

"Of course, Tony," Steve said in a pacifying tone. He turned to Sif. "We have a room for you to stay in while we talk."

"I would greatly appreciate that, Captain," Sif said, inclining her head. She reached down for the Tesseract.

"I'll show you to it," Bruce offered, shooting Steve a significant look that Tony couldn't decipher.

"Make yourself at home," Tony said, waving his coffee mug in Sif's direction. "But I'd wait for one of us to be around before you go into the kitchen."

"So you admit they misbehave," Bruce said. Then he left with Sif before Tony could think of a suitable retort.

"I shall go as well," Thor said, glancing between Steve and Tony. "We have much to discuss, and it would be best if I know what is happening before I decide what I must do."

Then Thor left, leaving Steve and Tony alone in the living room.

Steve looked at Tony, who kept his gaze fixed on his coffee, for a long moment. "We need to talk," he finally said seriously.

Tony couldn't stop his eyes from flickering up to see Steve's expression, which was utterly impassive. He barely stopped from nervously swallowing, instead shifting to down what was left of his coffee. Those words had never bode well for Tony, and he couldn't stop his mind from going overboard with potential reasons for why Steve would use them.

"I've got some time," Tony managed to say without his voice wavering.

"About the SHRA," Steve started, and Tony felt sick with the sheer relief that swamped him. He had to bring a hand up to his mouth to hide his face, which was doubtlessly showing that. "—and everything else you're doing," Steve continued resolutely.

"I thought we went over this," Tony said, moderately calmer than he had been several seconds before. "There is literally nothing else I can do—"

"Can you rest?" Steve interrupted, face pinched. "Can you _please_ give yourself a break? I know you've been working ridiculously hard, and I'm sorry I can't be of more help to you, but _please_ consider it? I've barely seen you this week, and we live in the same house!"

"The world doesn't stop when I rest, Steve," Tony said wearily, repeating what he had said the last time they'd had this argument.

"No, it doesn't," Steve agreed. "But _you_ need rest, Tony. I don't care what Extremis did to you, but you're still human. You need to sleep."

Tony barked out a laugh. "I don't know how much of a human I am with a computer for a brain."

Steve's face twisted. "Don't give me that, Tony. You still breathe, think, and feel like a human."

"How much of that is the computer, Steve? How much of that is Extremis programming my brain so _I_ don't feel any different?"

"_It doesn't matter_!" Steve snapped, his voice like whiplash. "JARVIS isn't technically human, but that doesn't stop you from treating him like one! The same goes for Dummy, Butterfingers, You, Spike, and Peggy! Spike is a coffee machine and Peggy is a stove; they don't even _look_ human, but that doesn't stop you from treating them like one. What makes you any different?"

Because Tony didn't _feel _human. He had news feeds constantly feeding into the back of his mind because of Extremis, humming from his affinity to technology, and a highly sensitive energy source in his chest that extended to the rest of his body. His AIs knew nothing else, having been built and programmed like such, but Tony _knew_. He knew what he had been like before. And it wasn't like this.

"It doesn't," Tony finally said, smiling painfully. He shrugged. "But I remember, Steve. I remember what it was like before. And it wasn't like this."

"You told me I could help you," Steve reminded him, slowly approaching him. He stopped just shy of Tony's personal space, but within touching distance. "Will you at least let me?"

Tony swallowed dryly, feeling suddenly, inexplicably exhausted. "I'll try," he whispered. "I'll try, Steve, but that's…that's everything I can do."

Steve's answering smile was painful with love and relief. He took that final step forward and crushed Tony into a warm embrace, burying his face in his hair. The coffee mug was sent floating to a safe haven as Tony returned the almost bone crushing embrace, fingers digging into the back of Steve's shirt as he hid his face in a warm shoulder.

"You scare me, Tony," Steve murmured after a long moment.

Tony's reply was barely distinguishable, muffled as it was. "Sorry."

Steve said nothing, just sighing and pressing his lips to the shell of Tony's ear.

Moving his arms up to Steve's shoulders, Tony uncovered his face, still keeping his mouth pressed to the other's shirt. His breathing was shaky and he was desperately trying not to cry, though his eyes were stinging. Steve was just so _warm_ and was right _there_.

After several long minutes which they just spent breathing each other in, Steve sighed again and moved slightly away so he was looking into Tony's face. "SHRA," was all he said.

Spending a brief moment regretting that they even had to have this conversation at all, Tony nodded once and said, "You'll probably want to be sitting for this."

Once they were seated in chairs facing each other, Tony began without preamble, "Leaving aside personal opinions, tell me what you know of it."

"It's a registration act for super humans," Steve responded immediately, "people like us. The government wants to put us down on a list. Minors will be brought to training facilities so they don't harm anyone. Anyone not complying with it will be arrested and forced to register."

"You've got the basics of it," Tony said tiredly, rubbing the lengths of his fingers together. "This has literally been discussed off and on for years, but dismissed because there was never any major reason for it. The Mutant Registration Act some years ago was a precursor to it, but was eventually repealed because of the violent backlash to it by mutants and humans across the country. The Superhuman Registration Act is more extensive, including virtually anyone who has abilities more than human." He gave a short laugh. "The last time this was suggested, Richards argued against it, saying that even very intelligent members of Congress committees would have to be classified as superhuman under it. This version is a little more specific in designating who's superhuman."

"Clint and Natasha?" Steve asked.

"Would be classified as superhuman because of their skills," Tony admitted. "This affects all of us, Steve. I didn't…" He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I wasn't paying attention because I had other things on my mind. When the mutant act was being discussed, I was one of the major supporters of the movement against it. Anonymously, of course. Didn't help much in the long run, but the money probably did."

"It's wrong," Steve said fiercely. "How can they consider something like this? It's like asking anyone who's black to register because of their skin color!"

"We already do that," Tony pointed out wryly. "It's one way we identify ourselves."

"Then let's go with sexual orientation," Steve said. "It's like asking everyone who isn't straight to go to the government, register, and be put in schools to be fixed. It's _wrong_, Tony."

"I'm not arguing against that," Tony said. "Leaving aside the ethical problems with the act, let's look at this from a different viewpoint. Superpowers are different from sexual orientations. You can hurt someone if you're not careful. Sending untrained super humans to training facilities to learn how to use their abilities would cut down accidents and mortalities. Look at Spider-Man: he's brand new to the gig. I bet if you asked him, he probably could have used the help when he started out."

"That's the _point_," Steve argued. "If you look at it like that, it doesn't seem wrong. But where does it stop, Tony? These facilities…what will actually happen there?"

Tony raised his eyebrows. "So cynical, Steve?"

"I've seen too much," Steve said shortly. "I know S.H.I.E.L.D. is different from the U.S. government, but not by much. Registering is the first step to control. And it's so much easier to teach the wrong things to kids when they're young. I've seen it in Germany. Most of the Nazis…they were _kids_, Tony. They probably didn't even know what they were fighting for." He looked at Tony. "What do _you_ think?"

"Given the right person, it could be a good idea," Tony said, feeling like he was digging himself into a hole. "_But_—" he added before Steve could open his mouth. "But I don't trust the government. I'm sure you've seen the videos of me calling a bunch of senators ass-clowns. They wanted my suit. Hell, they _got_ my suit, and look at what they did with it! They almost went live with a full army because of Hammer." Tony swallowed, interlinking his fingers so they wouldn't tap against his chest and the energy source. "So I don't trust them. Not with information like that. But depending on how it turns out, we're going to be dealing with registration one way or another, Steve. It's always going to come back."

"It doesn't mean we sell out."

"And I'm not suggesting that. But when it comes to politics, there's a certain bit of compromise—"

"Not when it comes to this! We're dealing with our rights, Tony. Can you tell me you want to be under the microscope for everything you do? There's no compromising when we're dealing with our right to privacy."

"And that's what we'll have to pin our hopes on," Tony said immediately. "Because according to the courts, that's a constitutional right. If the SHRA passes, there's going to be a ruling on its constitutionality. The question is whether the courts think the benefits outweigh the intrusion into our privacy."

"We can't be split on this, Tony," Steve said, leaning forward. "If we're divided on this, we don't stand a chance."

Tony's eyes flickered away. "I know." He smiled weakly. "But don't worry; the last I heard, they're waiting on something else to shift public opinion one way or another. It's not going to pass unless something big happens."

"We'll just have to make sure they see it's not needed," Steve declared, straightening.

Easier said than done, Tony knew. He was going to need to see Richards on this. No matter how idealistic Steve still was, he was right on needing to be united.

* * *

Following a night's sleep with Steve, Tony had to admit that he felt a lot better and less likely to turn on the waterworks at the slightest hint of an emotional conversation. Tony had spent about an hour just lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was going to do, when Steve had pulled him even closer, muttered a disgruntled "_Sleep_" into his hair, and buried his face into Tony's neck. After that, Tony had closed his eyes and tried his best to do that, dropping off almost immediately.

Now it was morning, and Clint and Natasha had come back from wherever they were. That meant that they could get on with their meeting about whether Thor should go back to Asgard to take care of whatever was happening there.

"She is _hot_," Clint immediately said once they were all convened in a room that was actually intended for meetings. "Please tell me she's staying."

"She is not, Clinton," Thor said. "She came to request that I return home to help. Darkness is brewing, and it involves my brother."

Clint's face instantly darkened at the mention of Loki, and Tony hastily asked, "Did she explain what it's about? Just mentioning dark elves isn't giving us a whole lot to go off of."

"There was not much she could explain," Thor said uneasily, "because it is difficult to discern what is happening. I asked the gate to my world to show me, and it showed glimpses of other worlds and the broken Bifrost. I fear it has to do with the broken bridge."

"What gate?" Bruce asked.

"The box which you call a TV."

"It can do that?" Tony wondered as everyone else shot him wary looks.

"Don't fix anything else unless you're certain you know what you're doing to it," Natasha told Tony.

"That doesn't matter right now," Steve cut in. "Thor, are you needed?"

Thor's face twisted. "For my father to have sent Sif here with the Tesseract, their plight must indeed be desperate. Yet I am also needed here."

"Go," Steve urged. "It's your home, Thor. We can take care of things here."

"We'll miss you," Clint said, "but Steve's right. We can do without you for as long it takes. 'Sides, you'll come back, won't you?"

"I shall try, but I can make no promises." Thor exhaled gustily, looking upward for a moment. "I fear that I am leaving you all in a time of dire straits. If I leave, I may not return. The Tesseract is only to be used in a time of great need, and my father may not permit its use in such a manner once again."

"Don't worry about it," Tony said, drawing everyone's attention. "Look, I'll call your girlfriend. I did something to that TV that connects it to the Bifrost; there's no other way to explain what it's doing. With Dr. Foster's help, I can probably help repair that bridge of yours. It's a crime that it's still broken, fancy rainbow thing that it is."

Thor stared at Tony for a long moment. "I do not think you understand what it is you are asking to do."

"Fix a bridge that connects the nine realms of a giant tree? Yeah, I think I get it. Easy-peasy."

"You are _insane_," Clint said. "Steve, tell your boyfriend he's insane. This is never going to work."

"I'm not telling him he's insane," Steve said.

"Thank you," Tony said.

"But I'll ask him to reconsider."

Tony pointed at him accusingly. "If I connected a _TV_ to Asgard without thinking about it one night, I can damn well fix the bridge. It's tech, and I _know_ technology." He folded his arms. "Dr. Foster's the expert on his science," he continued. "If I get her help, and Richards's, too, if I can swing it, we can definitely do this." His tongue soured at the thought of getting Richards to help, but it would probably be for the best considering the man's specialty was other dimensions.

"If he mentioned Reed Richards," Bruce said, glancing at Steve, "he's serious."

"Of course I'm serious." Tony spread his arms demonstratively. "I'm completely serious. I need something to do—"

"On top of your _other_ things?" Steve said pointedly.

"—and this'll be great. A collaborative work between three genius scientists. We can discuss the meaning of life and SHRA while we're at it."

Natasha rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "We're doomed."

Logan poked his head into the room. "We're out of beer, and the crazy lady is in the kitchen threatening your stove with a sword."

"No," Tony heard Clint tell Natasha as he and Steve promptly left the room to attend to Peggy, "_now_ we're doomed."

* * *

Before Thor and Sif left, Tony made sure to take multiple readings of the energy the Tesseract was giving off, both with and without Extremis.

Surprisingly (or maybe not), Extremis picked up much more than even Tony's most advanced computers. In a twisted way, it made sense, considering that no matter how one tried, computers were inferior to human minds. Tony had the creativity and imagination to come up with other tests that his own computers couldn't run, even JARVIS, and that led to Extremis picking up finer details.

In any case, Tony ran every test he could think of, even asking Bruce for some ideas to make sure he didn't miss anything. He had to make sure to be thorough for Foster and Richards, otherwise they'd all be stymied and stuck. (Or maybe not, since Tony had somehow managed to connect a _TV_ to Asgard when he wasn't even trying, but better safe than sorry.)

"Are you quite certain about this?" Sif had asked Thor as Tony leaned over the glowing cube, eyes black as he used Extremis to scan it.

"When it comes to Anthony, I am never certain," Thor had replied. "I have learned it is best to dispense with disbelief with his extraordinary talents, lest one have a headache at the end."

"You flatter me, honey," Tony had said, blinking as he disconnected from Extremis. He clapped Thor on the shoulder. "It's 'suspend disbelief,' not 'dispense with disbelief.' Did you remember to leave your girlfriend a message? They get testy if you forget things like that."

That had earned him a scorned glare from Natasha, but Thor had left Foster a message, so it was all good. Then they twisted the handles and were gone.

* * *

Before Tony could call Foster and ask if she'd be up for rebuilding the Bifrost (it was more of a courtesy really; he knew scientists, and Foster was definitely one; he'd already gotten the jet ready), he was confronted by Steve and Bruce.

"This is an intervention, isn't it?" he asked.

"Are you sure about this?" Bruce asked. "Really sure? I know you said you'd ask Richards for help, but you can change your mind."

"Bruce, if I said I'd ask _Richards_ for help, you know I'm not joking around." Tony couldn't exactly stand the guy, considering how irresponsible he was.

"It's the _Bifrost_, Tony," Steve said earnestly. "You're dealing with a lot now. Are you sure you should add something else?"

"I'm not doing this just for kicks," Tony said.

When they gave him extremely skeptical looks that looked almost identical (that was seriously creepy), Tony added, "Maybe a little." He demonstrated with his fingers. "But I have a point to this. Richards is the leader of the Fantastic Four and famous in his own right. We need to know where he stands."

"And Dr. Foster?" Bruce asked.

"If we're going to be working on the Bifrost, we need the expert. And she's also well known."

"You're networking," Steve accused.

"Basically, yeah," Tony agreed.

Bruce sighed. "I probably won't be much help with what you're going to be doing, but let me know if anything related to gamma radiation comes up."

"Don't worry," Tony said, grinning. "If I could hook up a TV, repairing the Bifrost shouldn't be too difficult."

"That's what worries me," Bruce said cryptically before shooting Steve a look and leaving.

"Are you two conspiring against me?" Tony demanded once they were alone.

"Yes," Steve said blandly. "We're in cahoots—"

"Cahoots? Who says that nowadays?"

"—and we want to learn your secrets." Steve rolled his eyes, then sighed. "He's just giving me advice. Nothing dangerous, Tony."

Tony narrowed his eyes, staring him down. Steve stared back, blue eyes earnest and sincere.

After a long moment, Tony realized that Steve was completely serious. Whatever Steve and Bruce had talked about, he probably wouldn't have to worry about it. Hopefully. (If he did, he was revoking Bruce's science bro status.)

Exhaling with a sharp huff, Tony turned around and headed to his workshop, hearing Steve fall into step behind him.

"I'm going to keep it isolated to Extremis," Tony said over his shoulder, mentally keying in his password before the door slid open.

"I'll stay quiet," Steve promised, stepping into the workshop behind Tony.

"You don't need to." Tony brought up Foster's information with a couple of blinks. "She won't hear you."

"I'll just sit here and stare longingly at my partner," Steve said, "gazing soulfully into his brown eyes—"

"Okay, stop right there." Wincing, Tony waved his hands frantically. "That's awful, and I don't want to know who introduced you to _Twilight_. Just sit, be quiet, and do all the staring you want. Without the creepy undead factor."

"I'm ninety-nine years old," Steve innocently pointed out.

"Be. Quiet." Tony pointed a finger at him. "Or I will sic Dummy on you. He's been sneaky lately."

_**Have not!**_ Dummy twirled around indignantly.

"I will not get into your sneakiness," Tony told the bot.

"We'll be good," Steve promised, putting up his hands defensively before moving over to sit by Dummy.

Eyeing the two of them for a moment longer, Tony returned his attention to Foster's information, linking it to Extremis. Then he "dialed" her number, head tilted slightly to the side as her phone rang.

It was picked up within moments. "_Hello?_"

"_Dr. Foster,_" Tony began, "_this is Tony Stark._"

There was a short pause. "_I don't want to know how you got this number, do I?_"

"_Irrelevant. How are you?_"

"_Tony Stark didn't call me on my private cell just to ask me how my day is going right after my boyfriend from a different world left._"

"_Touché. But you're right._" Tony eyed the information JARVIS had pulled up from the TV in Thor's room. "_Tell me, Doctor, how you would you feel about rebuilding the Bifrost?_"

After a disbelieving pause where Tony could literally smell the skepticism seep off Foster, she said, "_I'd be thrilled. But it's highly unlikely that it's ever going to happen, Mr. Stark. At least not within the near future._"

"_Tony, please,_" he said, pulling up the video feed of Thor's room. (Maybe it was a violation of privacy, but Tony hadn't gotten to this point in his life by being stupid. JARVIS had cameras everywhere, and what he knew Tony knew. In general. Sometimes it didn't work out that way.)

"_Call me Jane. …You know I'm not interested, right?_"

Tony glanced at Steve, who was crouched over and out of sight, doing something with Dummy. "_I'm taken._" He took a breath. "_What if I told you that I built a window to Asgard? And that it's a TV?_"

Jane gave a disbelieving laugh. "_I'd say you're pulling my leg. I've been studying this for years. There's no way that's possible._"

"_It was an accident,_" Tony said.

"_…You don't build these things by __**accident**__. What does Thor say?_"

"_He says it's Asgard, and he's used it. It was a little thing I did in the middle of the night. I'm still figuring out the details. You know how it is._"

"_No, I don't. Maybe because I __**study**__ these things before attempting to do anything!_"

"_That's why I'm calling, Jane._" Tony leaned back in his chair to look over at Steve. "_I'm getting Reed Richards in on it, too, but we need the expert. You don't have to worry about costs; it's all paid for._"

There was a short pause as she considered it. Then she sighed. "_You've already booked the ticket, haven't you._"

"_…Maybe._"

"_Send me the details. I'll be there. And you better have that TV ready to go so I can see if you're telling the truth._"

"_No problem._" Tony sent the e-mail with the flight information immediately with Extremis. "_See you soon._"

Jane sounded slightly unsure as she replied with a "_Yes_" but Tony was already hanging up, turning to fully face Steve.

"Should I be worried?" he asked, catching Steve's attention.

"I don't know." Steve smiled brightly. He stood up, slowly approaching Tony. "Should you?"

"You tell me," Tony responded, head tilting back so as to keep eye contact.

"Mm." Steve's smile turned mischievous as he leaned down. "I don't think I will," he murmured, brushing his lips against Tony's. "I'll just let you…stew."

Tony drew back slightly, giving Steve a thoroughly unimpressed look. "Stew? That's the best threat you can come up with?"

Steve's hands were on both sides of the chair, hemming Tony in. He leaned forward again, closing the gap between them that Tony had widened. "It works, doesn't it?" he whispered, grinning happily before sealing the gap and kissing Tony.

Tony turned his head slightly, but Steve turned his attention to his neck. His voice was slightly breathy as he asked, "You're not going to ask about what she said?"

"It went well," Steve murmured, mouthing at Tony's jaw line. "If it hadn't, you'd look frustrated."

"You know me so well." Tony moved his head so Steve's lips missed their mark and landed at the corner of his mouth.

"Tony." Steve's voice was a low complaint.

"I'm stewing."

Steve's hand came up to cup Tony's neck, gently turning his face so they were nose to nose. "Stew later." That said, he angled Tony's head to bring their lips together in a collision of heat and wetness.

Pushing with his telekinesis so they were now standing, Tony floated up to lock his legs around Steve's waist, absorbing himself in the kiss. Reveling in the way Steve's hands automatically came up to support his weight, Tony took the lead, turning the kiss wetter, dirtier, and more aggressive, dragging a long moan out of Steve.

The promise of sex was one way of shutting Extremis up, even if it was sadly temporary.

* * *

Later that evening, they were all settled in the living room to watch a mindless action movie, sorely missing Thor's egregious presence, when JARVIS announced, "Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes is at the door, sir, and requesting entrance."

Rhodey? Why would he be here? As far as Tony knew, no leave was scheduled for him.

"Let him in," Tony said, shrugging in response to Steve's questioning look.

"Were you expecting him?" Clint asked, eyes flicking over to Tony.

"No." Tony made sure to sound nonchalant. "But he drops by now and then. This should be fun; he likes these movies."

Clint gave a short skeptical huff, but said nothing else in favor of keeping his attention trained on the TV. He didn't turn when Rhodey entered the room.

"Tony." Rhodey had an easy grin on his face as Tony stood to give him a (manly) hug.

"Rhodey." Tony grinned back just as easily, pulling back to look his old friend in the face. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't see my best friend?" Rhodey asked.

"You're not on leave. I'd know if you were."

"That sounds several shades of creepy," Rhodey said. "I hope you don't say that to all the girls."

"Just you." Tony grinned again. He decided to let the matter lie until they were alone. "Movie?"

"Don't mind if I do." Rhodey sat himself down on Tony's opposite side after Tony had reclaimed his seat. He nodded genially to Steve. "Captain."

Steve smiled at Rhodey over Tony's head. "Steve, please."

"James," Rhodey said.

"Call him Rhodey," Tony interrupted, not looking away from the TV. "James never suited him."

Before Rhodey could say anything else, they were all pelted with a few popcorn kernels courtesy of Clint. "Quiet," he ordered, eyes fixed unerringly on the glowing screen.

Not wanting to be hit by popcorn again, they settled into silence, Steve curling an arm around Tony's shoulder to pull him into his side.

When the movie eventually drew to its predictable formulaic conclusion, Tony turned to Rhodey. "Drink?"

"As long as you don't get me wasted," Rhodey replied easily.

"He doesn't get wasted," Clint proclaimed, gesturing at Tony.

"Which is why I make sure others do," Tony said, flashing a grin. "It's hilarious."

"And he's really good at seeming like he's drunk," Rhodey added.

"I did have an image to maintain," Tony said unabashedly.

"Should we leave you two alone?" Natasha asked, stealing the remote from Clint.

Tony glanced at Steve, who nodded slightly. "That won't be necessary." He stood, patting a resigned Rhodey's head. "We'll just leave you to the TV while I catch up with Rhodey while he gossips about the army."

"You know me so well," Rhodey dryly remarked.

Giving everyone else a last cursory look over, Tony left with Rhodey to the bar he had in another room. Once there, he poured them both two whiskeys, keeping the bottle out for refills.

Waiting until Rhodey was taking a sip, he said, "Seriously, Rhodey, what are you doing here?"

Rhodey didn't splutter, but it looked like a near thing. "Geez, Tony." He swallowed his mistimed mouthful. "Can't a guy come to see his best friend?"

Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow, tapping a finger against the side of his glass. "I know for a fact you didn't have any leaves scheduled for the near future. So unless you're here against orders, I can't see why you're here. The timing's a bit too convenient."

"I put in a request for a leave of absence about a week ago," Rhodey admitted. "They approved it yesterday. I have about a month."

"Considering I was just outed," Tony said, "it's strange." He gestured empathically with his glass, taking a drink a moment later, the whiskey burning as it went down.

Rhodey gazed at him, hand clenched around his glass. "I didn't ask," he finally said, slouching over the bar. "But that might have had something to do with it."

"Checking to see what's up?"

"They called me in that day." Rhodey knocked back the rest of his whiskey in one go. Tony obligingly refilled it as his friend continued, "I told them I didn't know anything, but I'm not sure how much they believed me. They do still think I have some influence over you, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"And do you?" Tony wasn't smiling. "Have some influence over me."

Rhodey let out a short bark of laughter. "You don't let anyone influence you, Tony. You do what you want." He smirked. "I just don't tell them that."

"Yeah, don't." Tony raised his glass in salute before knocking it back, pushing it aside in favor of leaning forward onto the bar. "So why are you here? Given what happened, I thought they'd be needing all hands on deck."

"That was the plan," Rhodey said. "But because of you I'm not out there fixing whatever happened." Tony managed to keep from flinching, so Rhodey went on speaking. "I don't know what happened, Tony, but I thought I'd be here to give you some support. Your team's great and all, and I'm glad Steve makes you happy, but you could use someone like me."

"Someone like you."

"You haven't seen anything if you haven't been a couple of rounds with some asshole in a metal suit."

"That metal suit is pure genius," Tony said mock indignantly. "And I'm not sure if I want to know, but what's up with yours?"

Rhodey didn't hesitate, but his answer sounded rehearsed. "It's fine."

"Really? You haven't brought it in for a checkup in a while."

"Because it's fine. Not everyone's a genius, Tony. I have enough to deal with without relearning everything because you added a dozen newfangled features that no one can understand unless they're Tony Stark."

"I resent that. You know why I resent that? Because I strive to make things as user friendly as possible. Ask Steve."

"Your suit electrocutes anyone who tries to touch it."

"I can't have just anyone poking at it." Tony refilled Rhodey's glass. "And you've just admitted that the military's been poking at my suit. Now I really want to see it."

"No." Rhodey waved his glass once to emphasize his statement before finishing that as well. He paused, eyes narrowing. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Tony shrugged, moving to refill the glass. "Is it working?"

"…Give me the damn whiskey. And no strippers."

"What about a talking coffee machine?"

"…Whiskey. Now."

* * *

The next morning found Rhodey glaring at Tony while nursing a hangover. Tony just clapped his friend on the shoulder and moved into the kitchen to get some coffee.

"Coffee!" Spike chirped, already filling a cup for Tony.

"Thanks, Spike," Tony said as Rhodey groaned, "A talking coffee machine."

Tony made sure Spike received an unobstructed view of Rhodey. "Spike, this is Rhodey. You can think of him as a really cool uncle who only shows up now and then. I'd say grandfather, but that's a bit too weird."

"Damn straight," Rhodey grumbled, peering at Spike with a disbelieving expression on his face. "What the hell did you do, Tony?"

"I had nothing else to do," was all Tony said.

Rhodey grimaced, well familiar with the ramifications of a Tony Stark who had nothing to do.

After a short moment of furious humming from Peggy, signifying she was looking something up, she burst into a chorus of beeps for some song Tony couldn't recognize at all.

Rhodey didn't jump, but he did flinch as his headache was exacerbated. "The _stove_, Tony?"

"That's what I said," Clint said, walking in and giving Peggy a wide berth as he headed to the fridge. "Have a nice time?"

"Yes," Tony said just as Rhodey said, "No."

"I sense some dissonance here," Clint said.

"That's normal," Rhodey assured him, giving Tony the stink eye. "Coffee, Tony, and I might just forgive you."

Spike chirped questioningly, eye shuttering as he looked at Tony. _Should I?_

"Go ahead." Tony nodded, taking another drink from his warm coffee. He didn't move as he pulled down another coffee mug for Rhodey from the cabinet, giving it to Spike to fill before floating it over to Rhodey.

"I'm ignoring the weirdness of you doing that," Rhodey said, promptly gulping the liquid down.

"Welcome to my world," Clint said, now on the fridge and munching away. He looked at Tony. "Where's Steve?"

"We are not joined at the hip," Tony protested.

"No joke. That would be disturbing. But seriously, where is he?"

"Out," Tony said, remembering how Steve had pried himself free from Tony's hold to whisper that he was going shopping. Which was pretty much useless considering JARVIS did just about everything. (Tony wished him luck, since he was probably going to be ambushed by paparazzi the whole way.)

"Lucky," Rhodey muttered into his coffee.

"You wound me," Tony said just as beeping in his head from Extremis signaled someone was calling him. A quick check showed it was Pepper, and he picked it up without either of his friends being any wiser. "_Need something, Pepper?_"

"_Good morning to you, too,_" Pepper said tiredly, sounding strangely hoarse. "_And, yes, I need something. There's a gala tonight that I can't go to._"

Tony briefly considered accessing her phone's video capabilities before discarding it. "_Are you sick?_"

"_Yes. Which is why I can't go. The company needs someone there, and it's high time you make an appearance in public. People are beginning to think you have something to hide._"

Which he did, but Tony wasn't about to advertise it. He hated galas, and this was on ridiculously short notice, but if Pepper was really sick, he would go. She certainly sounded sick.

"You have any plans?" Clint asked Rhodey.

"Make sure Tony doesn't kill me," Rhodey replied wryly.

"I would never," Tony remarked absently, checking the guest list with Extremis. His eyes caught on Richards's name.

"_Tony?_" Pepper sounded confused.

"_Nothing. I'll go with Steve._"

"You've tried several times," Rhodey said accusingly.

"_Really?_" Pepper seemed suspicious at Tony's quick acceptance.

"All accidents," Tony said to Rhodey. Then to Pepper before she could again ask what he was talking about: "_Yep. Come on, Pepper. You're sick, I'm not. It's elementary math._"

There was a weary sigh on the other side of the line, Pepper evidently deciding not to ask. "_Thank you, Tony. I'm sure you already have the details. And don't blow anything up._"

"They were not," Rhodey insisted.

"Yes, they were," Tony said. "_As if I'd endanger the mass populace like that._"

"_Birthday party,_" was all Pepper said before she hung up.

"The birthday party doesn't count," he said both to himself and Rhodey.

"Yes, it does," Rhodey said.

"You tried to kill me, too, then," Tony pointed out.

"It was that or let you pummel me into the ground."

"Okay, I'm gonna have to ask Natasha what the deal is," Clint said. "YouTube fails on this front."

"It would," JARVIS said primly. _I deleted all evidence afterward._

"Good man, JARVIS." Tony deposited the coffee mug in the sink with a flick of his hand. He clapped his hands together. "I have a gala to get to."

"Gala?" Clint and Rhodey asked simultaneously.

"Yes. And I can totally carry on two conversations at once," Tony said to Clint, a flash of realization crossing the archer's face.

"What?' Rhodey sounded utterly perplexed.

"Can't talk now. Got a gala to get ready for and two geniuses to seduce!"

Tony bounded out of the kitchen, his Extremis-enhanced hearing catching Rhodey asking with a small groan, "I don't want to know, do I?"

Clint's reply was emphatic: "No, not really."

* * *

"I regret letting you talk me into doing this," Steve said, peering out of the limo windows at the crowd milling at the foot of the building (paparazzi of course).

"It can't be half as bad as what you had to endure this morning," Tony said, smiling fondly at him.

"They're like sharks," Steve said, shuddering.

"I told you." Tony patted his knee. "Now buck up and smile. They expect it."

Steve's answering smile was more of a grimace.

"That won't work at all," Tony chastised, sighing. "Give me that megawatt smile that drives everyone crazy – yes, that's the one." He grinned. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"It's _yours_," Steve said, causing Tony to tilt his head in confusion.

"The limo?"

That smile was back, this time endearingly fond. "No. Never mind." He leaned in to plant a kiss on Tony's cheek. "You're right. We should go. You can seduce Mr. Fantastic while we're in there."

Tony regretted ever saying that in the first place, as Rhodey had been pestering him about it ever since. "That was a joke."

"I know." The smile turned mischievous. "Doesn't mean I can't tease you about it." The subject was abruptly changed. "When's Jane getting in?"

"Late tonight," Tony replied instantly.

"So when we get back," Steve said seemingly to himself, turning to peer out the window again. Then, sighing, he said, "It's not going to get any easier if we just sit in here and stew."

"You're right. Why was I dilly-dallying around? We should go now." Tony opened the door and stepped out before Steve could say anything else. He reached in to give his partner a hand, reassuringly squeezing his fingers.

They walked as swiftly as they could without seeming like they were running, but that didn't stop the camera flashes and questions.

"Mr. Stark! What is your power?"

"Captain! What is your impression—"

"—your boyfriend being a mutant?"

"Mr. Stark—"

Leaving the din behind them, Tony leaned in to whisper into Steve's ear, "I feel like a minnow."

Steve gave a short startled laugh. "I think we've stretched that metaphor a bit too much."

"Noted." Tony drew away so he could lead them into the main room where all the action was taking place.

"So what's the plan?" Steve asked quietly, following alongside Tony as they kept to the fringes.

"We mingle, talk, drink a bit, and see how it goes." Tony scanned over the dance floor, catching sight of Richards talking with his fiancée Sue Storm (engaged for a couple of years, but still unable to wed because of villainous wedding crashers; Tony didn't envy them, but he thought he would've just eloped by now). Her hyperactive brother (who looked like a younger, more hippy version of Steve) was thankfully not present. Neither was Ben Grimm, though Tony couldn't blame him for not showing up. This wasn't exactly the type of crowd Grimm interacted well with even on a good day.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd just barge in."

Tony gave him an innocent smile. "There's always time for something different." He caught sight of Christine Everhart determinedly walking towards him. "Oh dear God, that's Everhart. Move."

"Right." Having experienced Everhart's brand of journalism himself when they'd first come out to the public, Steve didn't hesitate, steering Tony straight onto the dance floor, taking the lead after a quick silent exchange via eye contact.

"She's no worse than any of the others," Steve murmured into Tony's ear.

"Just miles more persistent." Tony made sure his back was to her so he had a legit excuse for not having to talk to her.

Steve made a small sound of agreement, spinning them behind a few other couples. "Anyone you have to talk to other than Reed?"

Tony caught sight of a few of his board members. Drat. They weren't sick? "Regretfully, yes."

"We can't get everything," Steve said amiably.

Catching sight of Richards being pulled onto the dance floor by Sue, Tony quickly adjusted their hands so he was leading instead, the transition effortless as Steve read his intentions beforehand. Tony casually began to move them in Richards's direction.

"You've got that look on your face," Steve said. "What are you plotting?"

"Nothing major," Tony responded, ignoring the insinuation that he had a look solely for plotting. "D'you mind dancing with Sue while I talk with Richards?"

Steve frowned, looking rather unsure as to what Tony was driving at. "No?"

"Great." Tony gave them a few more moments before coming up alongside Richards and Sue, smoothly breaking into their dance while handing Steve off to Sue.

"Treat him well," Tony advised her, taking a startled Richards's hands before he could protest.

He led Richards off in a spin, leaving a very bemused Sue with Steve, who was blushing slightly as he gently coaxed her into a dance. (Tony felt ridiculously proud. A couple of months ago and Steve would have been too mortified to do anything.)

"Tony!" Richards didn't look or sound at all happy to see him, which was such a shame (or not really, since Tony wasn't happy to see him either). "What are you doing?"

Tony gave him an unimpressed look. "Dancing, Reed. What do you think?"

"This is ridiculous."

"Yes, I know. It's amazing. Now smile for the cameras." Tony turned them lazily. "I need to talk with you."

Richards glanced around at the people surrounding them, many of them not-so-indiscreetly eyeballing them. "Here?"

"Unless you want us to make off to the bathroom, I don't see any other options."

Richards's face twisted slightly, but gave no other indication as to his state of mind. "All right. Let's have it then."

"Excellent." Tony shuffled in closer for a moment before leaning back. "Can you do that stretchy thing with your ears? I don't particularly want to say this loudly—"

Given the unimpressed look Richards was sending him (wow, he'd picked that up from Sue, hadn't he?), Tony abandoned that train of thought. "I'm sure you're aware of my friend Thor."

"The alien?"

"God." Tony shrugged in response to the skeptical look Richards was now sporting. "He went back to Asgard, but the Bifrost is still broken."

"Their dimensional bridge?"

"Yes, that. It's still kaput. Philanthropist that I am, I offered to help fix it. And since different dimensions are your specialty, I'm asking if you want in."

Richards had that bland face that showed he was thinking extremely intensely (was that how Tony looked? He hoped not). Finally, Richards sighed in disgust and said, "Stop."

Before Tony could, Richards had pulled them to a stop and dragged them off the dance floor to the side; the space was promptly vacated by several other people who were too well acquainted with Tony Stark's and Reed Richards's particular brands of madness.

"Just for clarification," Richards said in a low voice, staring intensely at Tony, "you're asking me to fix the Bifrost, a highly advanced bridge capable of dimensional travel in a way that no other species has ever achieved before."

"No. I'm asking you to _help_ me fix it. There's a difference."

"You're an engineer, Tony. You build—"

"And fix," Tony interrupted, rolling his eyes. "I fix, tweak, and rebuild. You're theoretical, and I'm hands-on. And while it pains me to admit this"—he made a face—"your theories are usually right. Which is why I'll need you there to make sure we get this right."

"We?"

"Did I forget to mention that Jane Foster would be joining us? She _is _the expert on Thor's people and their technology."

"So you're asking for a collaboration between three people who have never worked together and on a project that will take years to finish." Richards sighed. "Do you know how much else I have to do?"

Unimpressed, Tony said, "I'm just as busy. Look, Reed, you owe me a favor. Lots, actually, if my math is right – and it usually is. You and your group haven't exactly pulled your weight when it comes to dealing with Doom. Isn't he _your_ responsibility? And if I recall correctly"—Tony smiled falsely—"we've dealt with him the last so many times he came to New York. And in case you were wondering, that time when you were stuck in limbo and Thor hauled you out doesn't count."

"I understand." Richards didn't look happy at all to be admitting this. "But I'm saying that this is a project I can't devote all my time to. I can help, but I have other obligations." His voice pitched even lower. "SHRA being one of them, which _you_ should also be concerned about."

Tony's eyes flashed around the room, but no one was paying attention to their conversation aside from a few glances thrown their way to make sure nothing unsavory was happening. "This isn't the place for that conversation, Reed. But if you're in, we'll get started soon. I'll have Dr. Foster take a look at our TV before we come up with anything conclusive."

Richards frowned, bemused. "Your TV? Why would she need to look at your TV?"

Tony smiled brightly. "Didn't I say? Our TV is a window to Asgard, showing events live. It was an accident on my part, but"—he waved a hand dismissively—"semantics."

Richards stared at Tony as if he was certifiably insane (he might be, but it was debatable). "Tomorrow," he finally said, the one word a demand. "You and Dr. Foster are welcome in the Baxter Building for your work. I've got the requisite materials for building a dimensional bridge there. Why didn't you _say_ anything? This will cut down years on our work!"

"It didn't enter my mind," Tony admitted, shrugging dismissively. "As it is, it's still unclear just what I did—"

"What _you_ did?"

"Yes, what _I_ did. I'm an engineer, did you forget? I tweaked the TV." Tony sighed, rolling his eyes. "Again, not the place for this chat." He clapped Richards on the shoulder. "Lovely chat, Reed. I'll see you sometime tomorrow at the earliest; most likely the day after, since Steve isn't likely to let me go so quickly." He quirked his eyebrows. "And you'll doubtlessly need some time to get your things in order. I know what kind of mess you have up there."

"It's no different from yours," Richards shot back, eyes flitting away to the dance floor, presumably to find Sue.

"Touché. At least I know what I'm doing." Tony gave a quick nod and walked off before Richards could think of anything else to say. He'd had his fill of the other scientist for the night.

It was time to talk to some board members. And then Steve. He'd need something to wash that foul taste out of his mouth (and mind).

* * *

When Tony and Steve finally made it back home, Jane was already there and chatting in the living room with Rhodey. Tony sincerely hoped Rhodey hadn't done anything bad (like tell embarrassing stories), but chances were his luck wouldn't be so good.

The moment Jane saw him, her attention turned to him. "The TV is normal," she said, pointing to the completely unmodified TV that none of the Avengers had allowed Tony to touch.

"That's because that one is," Tony said, smiling easily.

"And it'll stay that way," Steve added. He nodded to Jane, smiling in welcome. "Good evening, Doctor. Did you have a nice flight?"

"Considering it was a private jet that picked me up, I'd say so."

"I hope you haven't been telling any nasty stories," Tony said to Rhodey.

Rhodey put up his hands in mock innocence. "It's all clear, buddy."

"Nothing nasty," Jane said. "But certainly informative."

Informative? Tony eyed the two of them, but their faces gave nothing away as to what had been revealed.

"The TV," Jane prompted. "If this is worth it, I need to let Darcy know that she has to wrap it up."

"Darcy?" Tony asked blankly.

"She's an intern," was all Jane said. "TV?"

"She's just as bad as you," Steve muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Jane said smartly.

"As you should." Tony gave a small smirk, giving Steve's elbow a small squeeze. "Come on. I'll show you to the magic gate."

"You shouldn't take being compared to Tony as a compliment," Rhodey informed Jane as Tony began to lead her to Thor's room. "Unless you live on coffee and forget to eat and sleep."

"You forget to sleep?" Jane asked Tony, shooting Rhodey one last look over her shoulder.

"Sometimes."

"And eat?"

"There's this drink what I like to call a miracle smoothie. You should try it."

Jane seemed slightly perturbed. "I think I'll stick with solids."

Tony shrugged, opening Thor's door. "Your choice. It's in here."

When they entered, Tony saw that the TV was on and displaying the image of a throne room that was empty. It was gold, majestic, grand, etc. There was also a huge throne, which made Tony wonder just what they were compensating for that the throne had to be _that_ big and _so_ high.

Jane moved to it, squatting down in front of it. "What exactly does it see?" she asked.

"Everything, I think. Thor said something about having it look at other worlds, so it isn't just isolated to Asgard."

"So somehow it's connected to something similar to the Bifrost," Jane murmured. "How do you switch channels?"

"Ask it?" Tony reached out for the remote control, calling it into his hand and ignoring the way Jane's eyes tracked it through the air. He pressed the channel button and the image on the screen changed to that of a bedroom, thankfully empty. "That also works."

Jane was sending him a look of despair. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

Offering an apologetic shrug, Tony said, "I did get readings on the Tesseract. Does that help?"

* * *

The first day Tony and Jane went to the Baxter Building, Steve came with them. Tony suspected it was so he could be sure they wouldn't do anything they shouldn't be doing. It could also be because Steve wanted to make sure Tony was in a relatively safe environment, since both of them could agree on the fact that Richards could be scatterbrained to the point of ignoring basic safety protocols.

Tony did, too, but he didn't work with dimensional portals that were likely to leave you stranded on another world where you were considered a god (he might have considered the possibility) so it totally wasn't the same thing. Not at all.

Rhodey had elected not to come in favor of hanging out with Clint. He'd muttered something about not wanting to be in the same room with Tony and Richards because they made him feel extremely stupid. Tony had been flattered until Clint had pointed out that it was a daily occurrence when one lived with Tony; then it was just overkill.

They didn't garner many stares on their way up to Richards's lab, mainly because everyone was already used to having four superheroes living in their midst. Tony might have gotten a weird stare now and then, but it was quickly taken care of by offering bland smiles that seemed to creep out the person staring.

"Do you always smile like that?" Jane asked once they were in the elevator.

"Yes," Tony said at the same time Steve said, "No."

Tony turned to him, eyebrow raised. "Really? You're going to butt in on this?"

"You're just trying to be difficult, Tony." Steve's face was very carefully blank, though there was a tinge of amusement in his eyes. "You have a very nice smile."

Tony was not impressed. "You're dating me. You're supposed to think that."

"You two are too sweet," Jane said, smiling amiably in response to the glare Tony shot her way.

Thankfully, the elevator chimed then as it reached the top floor, the doors sliding open. Hefting the bags they'd taken with them (Steve in possession of the TV since he was the only one who could carry it comfortably without relying on telekinesis), they stepped out into the hallway, slowly walking into the large room that made up the top floor of the Baxter Building. The speed was deliberate, since none of them wanted to walk into something disastrous Richards had orchestrated at the last minute.

At first sight, the room was empty. It wasn't, though, not really. If you counted technology, anyway, which Tony totally _did_ because otherwise it wouldn't make such a nuisance of itself in his head. And it was. A nuisance, that is, especially with his affinity and Extremis.

But Richards's technology wasn't as sophisticated as Tony's, which meant the humming and buzzing (the last from Extremis of course) was amateurish. If technology could be amateurish. It was also quieter, what with the distinct lack of his AIs chattering in the background. Tony kind of missed it, but it was also nice at the same time to have his mind to himself for once with only his own thoughts clearly discernible.

Back to the room, it didn't seem like anyone was in it. Richards had certainly been busy, though, if the hastily cleaned room was any indication. A plethora of equipment had been set off to the side, with some other stuff relegated to the top balcony circling the entire room; there were even some items rigged to the ceiling, and Tony couldn't figure out _why_ because even he wasn't so stupid as to tie stuff to the ceiling. Where, you know, it could _fall down_. Then again, with the Invisible Woman around and her force fields, maybe Richards didn't have to worry. And wasn't rubber nigh indestructible even when squashed?

As if summoned by Tony's thoughts, Richards's head stretched up and over a large machine in the corner, eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of them. "Just a moment!" His head shrunk back down out of sight.

Jane looked slightly perturbed, but said nothing as there were some small grunts before Richards squeezed (Tony meant that literally) his way out, body reforming as he straightened, slowly walking to them.

"Steve," he said, nodding to Steve.

"Reed." Steve had a small half-smile.

"You must be Dr. Foster," Richards said to Jane, extending a hand for the customary handshake. "Charmed." His smile was a bit too stiff.

"Lighten up a bit, hm?" Tony suggested, clapping him on the shoulder before brushing past him and moving to the center, turning in a slow three-sixty as he took in the lab.

"Likewise," Jane said to Richards, ignoring Tony. "Thank you for helping."

"I admit, my motives aren't entirely altruistic," Richards admitted.

"Steve," Tony said, "that box can go here. Unless you want to just drop it, which is fine."

"Don't!" Jane barked, turning onto Steve so quickly he blinked.

"Don't worry." Steve rolled his eyes, shooting Tony a fond look. "It wasn't my intention to just drop this."

Richards fidgeted. "Something important in there?"

"The TV I was telling you about," Tony said.

Richards's face lighted up. "Really? Can I take a look—"

"Reed, I hope you're cleaning up and not playing," Sue's voice interrupted, the tapping of her shoes preceding her arrival. "They're due – oh." She stopped short at seeing them, a welcoming smile spreading across her face. "Hi. I take it there weren't any issues then?"

Steve set the box down in front of Tony, straightening up and looking at him as Jane responded, "None, thank you."

"You must be Dr. Foster," Sue said pleasantly, coming forward to shake Jane's hand. "It's an honor to meet you. Reed's been salivating at the chance to get to know you."

"Sue," Richards protested.

"I never would have suspected," Jane said, lips twitching in what looked to be suppressed laughter.

"I'm telling it as it is, sweetheart." Sue patted him consolingly on the cheek before turning to Steve and Tony. Her smile and tone were warm when it came to Steve. "Steve." Her smile dropped and her tone became distinctly cool for Tony. "Mr. Stark."

"Why does he get a Steve and I get a Mr. Stark?" Tony gestured between Steve and himself.

Sue didn't look amused in the slightest. "You know why."

"I should at least merit a doctor. I have seven doctorates!"

"Seven?" Jane and Steve asked simultaneously.

"Dr. Stark then." Sue turned back to her fiancé, clearly dismissing Tony. "I'll send Ben up here to help with the heavy lifting." She sent the others a look. "Don't do anything dangerous."

"Of course, Sue." Richards leaned in for a quick kiss before she departed. He then instantly turned his attention to the box between Steve and Tony.

Tony waved at the box, stepping aside to make room for Richards. "Have at it."

"Why doesn't she like you?" Jane asked Tony as Steve came up beside him.

"I may have tried to sleep with Richards at some point in my misbegotten past."

To her credit, Jane didn't blink. "What else did she expect?"

Tony tilted his head slightly, glancing up and away. "It might have happened when he was still dating Sue. I may or may not also have tried to sleep with her right after."

"Tony." Steve sounded slightly horrified.

"I was drunk, or at least pretending to be." It wasn't like he could _actually_ get drunk, though it was amazing how many people had fallen for the act over the years.

"And I hit on Ben," Tony continued, not looking at either of them in favor of seeing Richards puzzle over the TV, which wasn't turning on. "Sadly, he's very straight."

"And still am, thank you," a gruff voice cut in. Tony turned to see Ben Grimm's very brown and rocky countenance behind him, his face not revealing anything. "I _knew_ you weren't actually drunk. You kept tossing something in the plant."

"What else was I supposed to do?"

Grimm frowned slightly, opening his mouth slightly, only to be cut off of by Richards peevishly saying, "It's not working."

Tony glanced down to see the TV just sitting there. "It's a TV, Reed. It does still need to be plugged in, even if it is a window to Asgard."

Richards had the decency to look faintly chastised, already moving the TV over to a power source where it could be plugged in.

"As always," Grimm said, shooting Tony one last look before stomping (not really, but it sounded like it) over to Richards, "you see everything but the small details."

"I see the small details," Richards protested, sounding affronted.

"The common small details." Grimm turned to Jane. "My apologies, ma'am. I'm Ben."

"Jane," Jane said, smiling softly as she shook hands.

"If you're all finished," Richards called, "I could use you here, Tony."

The TV was plugged in, which didn't explain why it wasn't on.

"It's a TV, Reed," Tony said, moving over. "It's not rocket science."

"I studied that."

"So did I." Tony knelt, only to sigh in exasperation when he saw the problem was the wires being plugged into the wrong ports. "You're as bad as Dummy. Scoot and let me do this. Go and finish whatever you were doing before; we don't want any explosions."

"There's nothing that volatile here," Richards said, affronted.

Tony made a dismissive noise, quickly setting the TV up and then turning it on. The first image was that of a giant throne room, the same as when the TV had been unplugged. Richards leaned in, eyes alight with fascination and burning curiosity.

"D'you want a drink?" Tony heard Grimm ask someone behind him; probably Steve, given Jane was at his elbow now. "I know how Reed gets; yours can't be much better."

"Water maybe?" Steve replied.

Grimm gave a disgusted grunt. "Something stronger, I think, given what we'll have to deal with for the next few days."

Tony exchanged glances with Jane, finding that she had the same amused expression on her face that he was sporting. Richards was cheerfully oblivious.

"I can't get drunk," was the first thing Steve said. The second was, "Tony and Jane are coming back tonight. We haven't got all their things for a long term stay."

"And I was so looking forward to a nightcap with Stark."

"He doesn't drink."

"Blackmail. Always a good thing."

Tony couldn't help but glance over his shoulder to see Steve looking over at him, smiling softly. "Tony, I'm going to go with Ben really quickly. You'll be all right?"

"Perfect," Tony confirmed, inclining his head. "Have fun."

As Steve and Grimm left, he and Jane locked eyes again before breaking into soft snickers.

Richards blinked up at them now. "Did I miss something?" He continued without letting them answer, "This is fascinating, Tony. How did you do this?"

"If I knew, Reed, I wouldn't be here." He changed the subject before they could harp on him. "So I got multiple readings on the Tesseract before Thor left. Let's take a look at that."

* * *

At day's end, Tony and Jane both had to be pried away from their work. Richards was left still scanning the readouts from the Tesseract, although the look Sue gave him made Tony think he wouldn't be doing that for long.

When he got back home, Tony found himself in his workshop, making sure he was packing everything he needed for an extended stay at the Baxter Building-. There was no telling what Richards had in the way of technology, but Tony wasn't going to take any chances. Most of the mishaps the Fantastic Four got into were because Richards's tech went on the fritz. Tony didn't want to fiddle around with Richards's computer only to find himself landing in Antarctica. He'd heard it was very hot there (note the sarcasm).

"Am I missing anything?" Tony wondered, scanning over the bag he had on the table.

_**Me?**_ Dummy said hopefully, spinning around to waggle his claw in Tony's direction.

"No, not you." Tony made a dismissive gesture at Dummy. "Go do whatever you were doing before."

_**Fine.**_ Dummy sounded slightly sulky, but he did turn back around to attend to whatever he had been doing. Tony wasn't sure what, but hoped it didn't involve weapons of mass destruction. Dummy and his brothers had been unusually sneaky lately.

"I assume you will be taking the Mark V, sir?" JARVIS asked. _The Mark XIII has not even been fully rendered yet._

"Yeah." Tony sighed, glancing up at where the Mark V was displayed. "Back to basics." He tapped the homing bracelets on his wrists once before dropping his hands back to his sides; if it was necessary, he could get the Mark IX to him in a pinch.

There was a slight hitch in the humming around him, signaling JARVIS was hesitating. "The Mark XII is ready for manufacturing, sir," the AI eventually said.

Frowning, he glanced over at the manufacturing assembly. "I haven't finished the upgrades yet."

JARVIS's tone was hesitant. "Extrapolating from your notes, I completed the rest, sir. You have been extremely busy. The suit is ready for assembling when you require it."

"JARVIS…" His voice sounded odd.

"It was the least we could do," JARVIS said earnestly, his presence feeling nervous.

"We?" Tony asked, feeling that this was a safer avenue to pursue than JARVIS finishing a suit because Tony was too busy. "Please don't tell me you had Dummy do anything."

Dummy waggled his arm indignantly. _**I'm not that bad!**_

"You keep breaking the blender."

_**I can't grab it!**_ Dummy's claw opened and closed as if to demonstrate. _**JARVIS did most of it.**_

"Dummy does have something for you, sir," JARVIS said.

Dummy was fidgeting nervously now, wheeling over to a spot by his charging station. Tony could hear him muttering to himself about how it had been messed up, but Steve had said it looked good, so it should be all right, right? He lifted up a blanket by his station and retrieved something, Butterfingers and You behind him now.

With a jolt, Tony remembered that one morning where Dummy had apparently messed something up. Clutching the table behind him, he looked down as Dummy approached him, a figure clasped in his claw.

It took him a moment before he reached down to take it, hands carefully rotating it as he observed the figurine from all sides. It was the Iron Man suit positioned in a classic fighting pose on a pedestal that had the words "World's Greatest Hero" inscribed on it. The colors on the armor were strange, with more gold than red.

**_The colors were an accident_,** Dummy admitted.

"No, it's…" Tony found himself swallowing and trying to ignore his stinging eyes. "I like it."

At that, Dummy gave a happy little twirl. _**He likes it!**_

Tony wanted to ask why they'd made this, but didn't know how. Instead, he looked down at the gift, a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he swallowed.

JARVIS spoke then, gently. "You have been there for us in every way that we could ask it, sir. We wanted to show our appreciation."

We wanted "Dad," but JARVIS said no, Butterfingers said, bobbing up and down as Dummy repeatedly bumped happily into You, aggravating the normally docile bot.

_Because he is emotionally constipated,_ JARVIS said smoothly. _There would be tears._

"I heard that." The words held no heat, and he gently set the figurine down on the table. "Thank you, all of you." He swallowed, looking down at his three bots. He made sure that the next part was spoken via Extremis so they could permanently store it if they wanted. _I couldn't ask for better kids._

_We are honored, sir, _JARVIS said softly. _And we wish you the best of luck._

"Luck?" Tony grinned broadly, raising his eyebrows as Steve entered the workshop to give him a pointed look. "Who says I need that?"

"I forgot who I was speaking to, sir. Naturally the only thing that would suffice is 'sheer dumb luck' and gratuitous amounts of coffee."

"He's not having any coffee," Steve said immediately, coming over to slide an arm around Tony's waist. He looked askance at the figurine, a soft look in his blue eyes. "He is going straight to bed."

"I'm not done here," Tony objected just to be contrary.

"Yes, you are. Night, guys," Steve told the bots.

Then without further ado, Steve hoisted Tony over his shoulder, ignoring the protests he made stating that he could walk and didn't need to be carried.

"Indulge me," Steve said, slapping Tony on the ass. That did do the trick of shutting him up long enough for Steve to take him out of the workshop.

They passed by the kitchen on the way to the bedroom, Jane watching them with a raised eyebrow as she warmed a kettle on Peggy. She didn't blink at the sight of Spike attempting to juggle several apples and a banana with a sink arm, which was something that even Bruce would have shaken his head at.

"Thor is a very lucky god," Tony told Steve as they entered their bedroom.

Steve set him on the bed. "So am I, especially when my partner takes care of himself."

Tony gave him the wide eyes that had always disconcerted Pepper. "I try."

Steve seemed similarly disconcerted at the sight, although his tone didn't betray it. "Good. Because I'm expecting that you'll eat, drink something other coffee, and sleep. I don't care about Reed or Jane. I care about _you_."

"That's an awesome slogan—"

"Tony."

"—and I'll definitely make note of it." Tony grinned, stroking a finger down Steve's arm. His grin softened into a smile a moment later. "I know you care, Steve. But you know I can't make any promises. Half the time I lose track of what's going on; it's not on purpose."

Bringing his other hand up to catch Tony's, Steve interlaced their fingers, squeezing gently. "I know. That's what worries me."

"It'll be fine," Tony said, finding it bizarre to be the one reassuring Steve.

Steve smiled, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on Tony's lips. "I know."

* * *

The next day found Tony and Jane back in Richards's lab (Tony refused to call it a workshop, because it really _was_ a lab with all the bubbling, fizzling, hazardous – okay, he was exaggerating here, but you get the drift) with all the supplies needed for a lengthy stay. That meant the Mark V for Tony, since he was fresh out of up-to-date suitcase armors (seriously, villains should stop setting off the self-destruct feature; it was getting annoying and expensive; suits didn't grow on trees).

The Mark V was stashed in a corner of the room far away from anything hazardous that could potentially damage it. When it came to Richards's antics and their potential consequences, one could never be too careful.

Setting up his space in a corner of the middle of the room (an oxymoron, Tony knew, but there was a circle in the middle where all the cool stuff was, and he was in a small section of that; never mind that circles didn't have corners, shut up, voice-who-sounded-like-Bruce), he laid three of his prototype tablets out and turned them on, interlinking them as he did so he had a holographic interface to work with.

"Has that been released to the public?" Richards asked from behind him, eyes fixed on the glowing blue images.

"Still testing," Tony said, demonstrating with a twist of his wrist. The holographs fizzled out for a moment before stabilizing on images of the Tesseract and the results of the readings he'd taken; above it were the readings for the TV, set up at the north point of the circle and fixed on an image of an Asgardian bedroom (he hoped Richards had gotten an eyeful of Asgardian sex). "It's got some bugs I'm working out."

"Reed, Sue says that when the food gets up here, she expects you to eat, not give it to the pigeons for scientific purposes." Johnny Storm's voice sounded from the entryway. A second later he walked in, dressed in a leather jacket and faded jeans; it took Tony a moment to separate the mental image of Steve Rogers from Johnny Storm, because – _wow –_ they were alike. He'd almost forgotten; about the only striking difference was the hair, which was cut short and sticking up as if Storm had just rolled out of bed.

Hands stuck in his pockets, Storm strolled up to Tony and Richards, passing by Jane with a large smile and nod. "Yo, Tony." His eyes passed over the holographic display. "That is seriously cool. Where can I get one?"

"Not available for the general public," Tony said, waving his hand down to move all the holograms back into the tablets. "Got your message, Storm. You can go back to your party."

"You can call me Johnny, you know," Storm – Johnny – said, sounding slightly hurt, though his lips were twitching. "We're familiar enough for that."

"That is just bizarre," Jane commented, eyes flicking from Johnny to Tony. "You know you look like—"

"Captain America, I know." Johnny flashed a broad shiny grin. "I get that a lot. You're Dr. Foster, yeah?" He reached out to shake her hand, still with that lady-killer smile.

"She's dating a Norse god," Tony said blandly, "so I wouldn't try anything."

"Just saying hello," Johnny said, glancing at Tony. He did step back from her, though, bouncing slightly on his feet. "So, doing mad science?"

"You can tell Sue we'll be fine," Richards said, leaning back from Tony's tablets to turn to Johnny. "No pigeons here."

"You're not supposed to feed them," Johnny said. He looked back at Tony. "How's life treating you, Tones? Haven't seen you in a while when it's not on tabloid magazines or making news."

"You saw me the last time Doom was here, which was _your_ job." Tony glared at Richards, who was completely unaffected. "And it's Tony, Long John."

"I'm sensing a very long history here," Jane said.

"Yeah, we slept together some years ago," Johnny said offhandedly.

"Johnny," Richards groaned.

"It wasn't even that great—"

"Hey!" Tony snapped.

"I was drunk and you were annoying." Johnny's tone was blunt. "It was just very, very gay."

"I find this terribly strange," Jane said, eyebrows furrowed.

"Really?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "I find this fascinating. I didn't know I was such a terrible lay, Johnny."

"You were, like, twenty-nine." Johnny grinned rather smugly. "Don't take it personally."

He'd actually been thirty at that point, but there was no need to argue semantics. Tony waved a dismissive hand in his direction. "You were – what? – nineteen?"

Johnny laughed shortly. "Yeah, no, I was twenty-one."

"Twenty, tops."

Before Johnny could protest, Jane broke into the discussion, sounding distracted, "Oh wow, are we supposed to be seeing that?"

Curious, Tony glanced over to the TV to see two women going at it. "I think I liked last month's more." One woman flipped the other onto the bed by throwing her into the air. "Never mind. This is much cooler."

"You guys watch porn?" Johnny asked.

"It's Asgard," Tony said, not deigning to look at him. "Now shoo. Your presence is no longer needed."

"Be quiet," Richards muttered, not paying attention to anything other than the television.

Activating the holographic interface, Tony focused on the TV with a tablet, trying to see if he could change the channel without the remote control.

He made a small sound of triumph when the screen suddenly changed images to a long hallway of artifacts. Ignoring Richards's and Jane's exclamations, he used Extremis and the tablets to record the fluctuating readings.

He'd talk with Richards on SHRA once they were over the first hurdle.

* * *

It was later that day after they'd made some headway into figuring out how the TV was connected to Asgard that Richards broached the subject Tony had been dreading.

"A mutant." Richards didn't look from his screen. "I didn't expect that."

Tony waited a beat before casually responding, "I don't think anyone did."

Now Richards looked up, eyes keen. "So what do you have?"

Tony met his eyes, an eyebrow raised. "If I didn't tell the public, what makes you think I'll tell you?"

"We're friends—"

"We're _colleagues_. We don't hang out, Reed. Our relationship is lukewarm." Tony lifted a shoulder, adding, "At best."

Richards glanced at Jane, but she shook her head to signal she wasn't going to step in. "You're a technopath," he finally said resolutely, looking at Tony's hands maneuvering the holographs.

Tony couldn't help the short burst of laughter. "Ah, no." He snorted. "No."

"It's the only conclusion that makes sense," Richards argued. "You're a technological wizard; it would make perfect sense if you could link with technology."

Now Tony was just insulted. Was Richards so conceited as to think that all of Tony's breakthroughs had been because he could apparently _communicate_ with technology? He didn't go around decrying Richards's genius as a quirk of his accident in space (though it was debatable how much effect it had on his sanity).

"Sorry." Tony brushed aside a ball of data to glare at Richards. "Do I go around asking if your genius is because you were irradiated in space? I didn't create _this_"—he gestured at the holographic interface surrounding him (the tablets were now spaced out around him on the ground after some Extremis tweaking)—"because I'm a _technopath_. Try again, Richards, or…wait. Don't. Keep your thoughts to yourself."

Turning around sharply, Tony discarded whole streams of data that were irrelevant, tossing them into the trash can at his elbow. He wasn't a technopath, even if he had an affinity to technology. The affinity was because of his telekinesis, and the way his mind reached out to objects in order to manipulate them. It was only technology because of how much he worked around them.

And now it was because he had been modified by a tech virus.

"Hey, Reed—" Grimm's voice broke in then, though Tony didn't turn around to see him.

Extremis was linked into the TV, giving him data feeds on what it was doing. The device was tuned to a frequency Tony had never heard before.

He heard Jane warn Grimm, "Watch your step."

How had he gotten this frequency originally? He hadn't had Extremis then to help. Nor had he had the affinity at that point…

"Sue wants you down," Grimm was saying.

"Can it wait—"

"Ben, stop!"

Snapping out of Extremis, Tony heard a loud crash before the floor shook, rattling his tablets and making his holographs fizzle. Grimm had probably tripped over one of Richards's devices that they'd been stepping over all day; nothing to worry about, though maybe they should turn up the lights some more since it was getting dark out.

There was a sound like metal snapping, and Tony had time to look up and register something very large and metal careening down towards them before he reacted, slamming it to a halt with his mind.

There was a small twinge at his temple that he ignored; it was only a warning that this thing was incredibly heavy. Reaching out with a hand, he guided the large bulky containment chamber to a clear section of floor by the windows. He inched it down until letting it fall the rest of the way with a thud; anything that ugly didn't deserve care.

Whipping around to face Richards, he demanded, "What was that about following proper safety protocols?"

"Telekinesis," was all Richards said.

Huffing, Tony moved the small crate Grimm had tripped over with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Satisfied? I hope you didn't just risk all our necks to find out what my ability is."

"I wouldn't," Richards objected.

"That was partly my fault," Grimm admitted, lumbering to his feet. "I moved it up there."

It took Jane a moment to say something, her face rather white. "That doesn't seem very safe or responsible." Her voice showed no sign of the fright she'd just had.

"Reed told me it was safe." Grimm glared at Richards.

"And it should have been."

"As long as no one extremely heavy"—Tony arched his eyebrows at a chastened Grimm—"jumped, stumbled, or fell onto the ground. Perfectly safe, Richards. Is there anything else we have to worry about?"

"Some file racks," Grimm said before Richards could. "I'll go up and move 'em."

"Do that." Tony shot a glance at the almost lethal chamber that had threatened to crush them, thankful that Steve hadn't been there to see that.

"How extensive is it?" Richards asked as Grimm moved up to take care of any other objects that might want to kill them later. "What can you do?"

"Do kids still say NYOB?" Tony asked.

"NYOB?" Richards repeated uncertainly.

"None of your business," Grimm grunted from above their heads.

"Exactly." Tony nodded, mouth twisting into a partial smirk.

"It has so many useful applications," Richards persisted, apparently unaffected by Tony's words.

"Could we work on this?" Jane asked, peering at the TV that was now showing a man and a woman brawling. Naked. "I didn't know Asgardians were so…" She didn't seem to have a polite word for "weird," which was what Tony would've said.

Mouth twisting slightly, Tony brought one of his tablets up to his hand, looking down at it as an excuse for not having to look at Richards. He knew he was acting like a child, but to be fair Richards didn't know when to drop it.

Steve would say he should act like an adult and be the better man. Pepper would look at him disapprovingly and tell him to behave. Rhodey would have a resigned look on his face while he agreed that Richards was a moron, but Tony should at least be mature, but oh, he'd forgotten who he was talking about here. Bruce would totally be on Tony's side, as they'd both griped about how Richards couldn't get his shit together ninety percent of the time. The other ten was too weird to think about.

But he'd have to be working with Richards for a while, so it was in his best interest to play nice. And who knew? Maybe he'd manage to tolerate him better. A guy could dream.

Sighing loudly enough to catch Richards's and Jane's attention, taking it off the TV, Tony started, "I have an affinity to technology because of the telekinesis. An _affinity_," he snapped when Richards opened his mouth, looking very contrary. "It's because I work with it and fight in a suit. Tech doesn't speak to me."

"What does that mean?" Jane asked.

Tony shrugged, not quite able or willing to put it into words. "I can feel it around me. It hums. Makes it easier to mess with tech, like breaking or turning it on." He looked over at the TV, turning it off for a few seconds.

Jane was looking between him and the TV, a sharp look in her eyes. "That affinity of yours…how long have you had it?"

"Couple months. Noticed it when I was with the X-Men." Richards's mouth opened in sudden realization, and Tony felt a small sense of satisfaction in knowing that Richards hadn't known where he was during that time.

"When did you do this?" Jane pointed to the TV.

He had a small inkling of what she was getting at. "Before I went with them."

"How long before?" Richards asked, an edge of excitement in his tone.

Tony frowned slightly, turning his mind back. God…had it only been several months ago? It felt like years. "About a week or so."

He felt like kicking himself for not realizing something so obvious. True, he'd first noticed his affinity to technology in Charles's mansion, but that was because he'd been primed for battle, paying attention to the slightest detail. There was no telling how long he'd been ignoring it before that, distracted by other, more important matters. He'd ignored colds, headaches, fevers, and broken fingers before; humming certainly wasn't the worst thing he'd worked through (that dubious honor belonged to the arc reactor). And once he'd noticed it, he couldn't _stop_; it was always there, just like Extremis (don't go there, not now).

But to the point… Even though he hadn't been _consciously_ aware of his affinity, his subconscious had been. And given that the Bifrost, even broken as it was, was an advanced alien piece of technology, Tony had tuned into it, tweaking the TV to hone in on that frequency and only that frequency.

Now the question remained as to how he'd tuned into the Bifrost in the first place.

"Yeah, okay," he said a few seconds after answering Richards, earning blinks. "So if that's established—"

"What?" Jane asked.

"—how did I tune into the Bifrost? I would've had to in order to get that to work." He gestured at the TV.

"You…" Jane took a breath, shaking her head slightly in response to something Tony wasn't privy to (he wasn't a telepath). "What were you thinking of then?"

"I can't remember," he admitted, shrugging sheepishly.

"You have a nigh eidetic memory," Richards protested.

"When I pay attention," Tony agreed. "You can't tell me that you've never just left the building – metaphorically speaking – and just let your hands work, have you? It's a habit of mine when I can't sleep." He swiped a thumb over his tablet. "Which is often."

"Is that where the singing vase came from?" Jane asked suspiciously. "Thor said something about your 'master craftsmanship magic' and left me with it. It's singing falsetto now."

"A singing vase?" Richards sounded completely perplexed.

Tony waved a dismissive hand. "Doesn't matter. The point I'm trying to get at is that I wasn't paying attention when I hooked a TV up to the Bifrost."

"So what?" Jane folded her arms. "We should just expect another engineering night driven by insomnia to fix the Bifrost?"

Tony snorted. "Ah, no. Look, I'm a genius. But Asgardian magic isn't my field; hell, I _hate_ magic. It just doesn't mesh with science, even if Thor says they're the same. You're the expert on this," he said, looking right at Jane. "Reed's got the in-depth knowledge on portals and dimensions. I'm just the guy with an affinity for tech who builds stuff."

"Tony Stark being modest." Jane sounded stunned. "I think hell's just frozen over."

Tony plastered a broad, fake smile on his face. "Let's keep that between us, yeah?"

Jane ignored the smile. "Because we can't have people thinking that Tony Stark is modest."

"He isn't," Richards added blandly.

"Right." Tony gestured at Richards. "My point is that while I'm a genius and totally capable of learning how to build a bridge from here to Asgard, it's easier to ask for help."

"You can't just _build_ a bridge that jumps across worlds," Jane protested. "It's not that simple. If it were, it would've been repaired before now."

"Something tells me that while Asgardians are a powerful bunch, they're sort of lacking in the brain department."

Jane looked like she wanted to protest, opening her mouth. She closed it a moment later, grudgingly tilting her head in agreement.

"Every race has its engineers," Richards declared. "How else was the bridge built?"

"Doesn't mean they have the capability to repair it." Tony spun the tablet into the middle, leaving it twirling in the air, holograms with the Tesseract displayed on it spinning to life above it. "Or we wouldn't be here." He shot Richards a look.

"You think the Tesseract will be able to fix it?" Jane asked, stepping up to the floating, spinning tablet.

"Definitely a possibility," Tony replied, rubbing his hands as he walked around them. "It can be used to open portals and transport objects. We know that. But that's just pure energy. We've got the transportation down; we need the materials to build. It can't just be stone."

"Stone would never work," Richards absently said, eyes running over the displays. "You didn't show us this yesterday."

"Yesterday was the basics." Tony squatted in front of the TV, hands placed on the top both to brace himself and for a better connection. "Today's what I analyzed from the basics. Have at it."

He wondered if they would see what he had when he'd run and analyzed the tests. It wasn't a Sherlockian mystery.

* * *

By mid-afternoon of the following day, Jane had gone with Sue to pick up something to eat. She'd said something to Tony and Richards, but Tony had been too lost in the midst of Richards's portal machine to pay attention, while Richards was engrossed in the all the readings that Tony had taken of the Tesseract and his subsequent analyses. So while Jane had given a disgusted scoff and muttered something about making sure no one starved to death because Captain America would give her those disappointed eyes and she didn't want to see those, Tony had just hummed in response and tweaked something in the machine that was humming discordantly.

"You wanted to talk," Richards eventually called to Tony.

It took Tony a moment to disengage himself from the machine and rewind. "Right. SHRA."

"You should be concerned about it," Richards said.

Tony raised an eyebrow, closing the maintenance door of the portal machine. "What makes you think I'm not?"

Richards grinned slightly, collapsing the holographic schematics to give him an unobstructed view of Tony. "I forget who I'm talking to here."

"Right." Tony came up to the opposite side of the table, pulling over a chair so he could sit. "Let's get down to it. What do you know about the bill?"

"More than you." Richards's face was not amused now. "You've been quiet, Tony."

"I've had other things on my mind." Tony smiled lightly. "We can't all have unlimited time to go exploring."

"It's not a recent idea," Richards said, "but you know that. I've had several people ask me for my input. I said it would never work, that it was unreasonable to expect every person with remotely unusual abilities to register." He exhaled, eyes dropping to the table between them. After a moment, he looked back up, eyes fixed somewhere on Tony's cheekbone. "They took that advice. The wording of this bill accounts for people with skills that are above average. It's the abnormalities that have to register; if you hadn't been a mutant, you would've had to because of your suit."

"I know all that." Tony leaned forward, hands clasped between his legs. "You're not giving me the whole story, Reed."

Richards met his eyes, for a change not immediately glancing away. "I'm going to support it."

Tony stiffened. "Did I just hear you say you were going to support this?"

"Yes." Richards's tone was unusually sharp. "You don't know what alternatives they were offering, Tony. This is a compromise, something I managed to talk them down to provided I support it. If I don't…" Richards swallowed subtly, the movement so slight Tony almost missed it. "You don't want to know."

"I do." Tony made sure his tone was soft but unyielding. "I'm sure I can guess at what they were considering before. It wouldn't be very difficult to find out. Captain America thinks we need to show a united front, and I agree." He smiled grimly. "You haven't been backed into a corner yet, Reed. If I don't support this, that's going to be a hell of a lot of opposition right there."

Richards sharply looked at him. "You saw this coming," he said lowly. "I know you did. Stopping it now isn't going to stop it from happening again, you know that."

"I do." The calculations wouldn't add up to anything else, no matter how much Steve might wish it so. "Which is why we should come up with a compromise of our own if they end up pushing this through. You said the SHRA is their compromise; let's give them our own."

"Tony—"

"I have enough power to do that. So do you. And the X-Men won't stay out of this, not with a fellow mutant openly opposing the act."

Grimm's voice cut in, "As long as you don't go calling the Senate assholes, it'll be good."

"Ass-_clowns_," Tony corrected, twisting around to see Grimm lumber over to Richards. "It'd be an insult to assholes everywhere if I called them that."

"What about clowns?"

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Who likes clowns?"

Johnny drifted in, toting a large bag that smelled like Chinese. "I do," he volunteered, beaming. "I love clowns. Love their big red noses, their white faces, large smiles, funny shoes—"

"We get the message," Tony interrupted. "You're mentally challenged."

Johnny pursed his lips, looking down at his bag. "Well, I _was_ going to ask if you wanted some Chinese, but if you're just going to be insulting, I'll leave."

"I thought Jane left to get something," Tony said, shooting Richards a glance. His response was a confused shrug.

"She and Sue are bonding over stuff – woman stuff." Johnny waved a hand as if to demonstrate he couldn't care less. "But there are a load of sandwiches in the kitchen."

"Be nice," Grimm warned.

"I'm nice!"

"Be nice somewhere else." Tony returned his attention to Richards. "You in, Reed?"

"Statistically speaking," Richards began, "your plans have always had a low chance of succeeding."

"Pot meet kettle," Grimm rumbled, not looking at either of them in favor of staring down Johnny, who was staring back.

"They work out," Tony pointed out, a small smile on his lips.

"Generally speaking."

"They still work."

"We have a lot to lose with this."

"You think I don't know that?"

Richards was silent for a moment longer. Then: "A compromise of our own, you said?"

Tony nodded once, firmly, lips pressed together. "One they can't refuse."

Wetting his lips, Richards exhaled through his mouth, looked up at Grimm and then back at Tony. "All right. Let's do it."

It took a second before Tony couldn't repress the broad grin that spread across his face.

"Oh my God." Jane's voice sounded from the doorway, sounding horrified. "Tony Stark is no longer passive aggressively sniping at Reed Richards. We're all doomed."

"I'd say that's more of a Doctor Doom thing," Johnny interjected, "but that's just me." Beaming broadly in response to the looks everyone shot his way, he held up his bag. "Chinese?"

* * *

Later that night, Jane brought up the issue Tony had thought they would catch onto earlier. "I've been looking over this data multiple times, but this doesn't make any sense."

From under Richards's absolutely beautiful portal machine (yes, it was growing on him, even if some of the wiring was seriously messed up and giving it energy problems), Tony requested, "Elaborate."

"Sorry?" Jane asked politely, her voice slightly muffled.

Poking his head out from underneath the machine, Tony repeated, "Elaborate. Because we have several streams of data going at the same time."

"This data on the energy readings of the Tesseract," Jane clarified. "It's odd because there's a parallel stream of data right by it that's almost identical, but not quite."

"Right." Tony looked over at Richards and saw that he had nothing to add beyond looking extremely interested. Well, at least he had his attention. "Anything pop out at you about that second set?"

"It's basic," Richards said. "The Tesseract's readings have something else added to it, but the second set is like the basic set of what makes up the Tesseract's energy."

"And that would be?" Tony prodded.

"It's not any element I've seen here," Jane admitted.

"You've seen it," Tony disagreed, coming out entirely from under the machine and sitting up, leaning back against it. "It's just the rarest element on Earth."

Richards frowned. "Vibranium? How is that possible? And where's this"—he tapped his screen—"data coming from if it's not the Tesseract?"

"Here." Tony tapped the energy source in his chest. "The arc reactor powering my tower runs off the same energy. I noticed the similarities when running my tests; I brought it over to get a second opinion."

"Are you saying you have an alien energy sitting inside your chest?" Jane demanded.

"It's not alien," Tony protested, affronted. "I _created_ it. That makes it human."

"Vibranium is a metal," Richards said slowly. "The energy powering the arc reactor isn't."

"Which is the question I want answered," Tony explained shortly. "I got the readings and couldn't explain them. The Tesseract is alien; what I made isn't. Logically, the two shouldn't converge."

"Meteorites are alien," Richards murmured, brows furrowed as he thought.

"I have the data from when Thor first came to Earth," Jane said, eyes flickering over to a pensive Richards. "We can compare that, see what we come up with."

Tony spun one of his tablets over to her, setting it on the floor by her feet. "Use this so we can all see."

Jane hesitated slightly as she reached out to touch the floating holographs.

"It's linked to your computer, Jane. Just pull up the relevant files."

Mouth tightening, Jane began maneuvering the holographs, spinning them away if they weren't what she needed. In about two minutes she had the relevant data open along with a video and pictures of the first time Thor had touched upon Earth. It was a lot more violent than Tony had expected, especially considering how he'd slammed into the truck upon walking.

"The energy that my sensors picked up is similar to what the Tesseract is giving off," Jane said finally, looking down at where Tony was still sitting.

"Yeah?" Tony didn't necessarily need to ask as he had pulled up the same file via Extremis, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"And that was when the Bifrost was still operational," Richards said.

"It was," Jane confirmed. "I don't think it was destroyed until after Thor left for Asgard to stop Loki. He promised to return and…" She shrugged, face carefully blank. "Well, he didn't."

Tony wasn't sure what to say to that, so he went for the best option: nothing.

Richards didn't have the same tact, but then he didn't even address Jane's statement. "If the Tesseract and the Bifrost run on the same energy source, then we can use that to rebuild to the bridge."

"It's still slightly different," Jane pointed out, skimming her fingers over a set of data. "It's a different set of data from what Tony has and what the Tesseract is giving off."

"So we can modify that particular energy source according to what we need," Tony said, feeling a burst of excitement. "Now we just need to find whatever it was that formed the Bifrost and we're good to go."

"There aren't many materials that would actually be able to handle the amount of energy the Bifrost channels," Richards said, meaning that there were virtually none.

"Wrong," Tony said, drawing his attention. "I made one, remember? Or have you forgotten what I'm using for clean energy?"

"It's an energy source," Richards protested. "It can't be used to build a bridge because it would need to be solid."

"It _has_ been solid," Tony insisted. "See…" He drew over another of his tablets, quickly drawing a model of the atom he had used when creating the element. "Look familiar?"

"I'd say it's vibranium," Richards said slowly, "but that would be impossible because it's a metal."

"It doesn't have to be," Jane said. "What if this is the purest, rawest form of vibranium? It's the rarest material on Earth; we don't have all the information on it."

"Most is right now in a shield," Tony added, "and mixed with steel. But then…" He paused, struck by a thought. "From what I understand, Thor broke the Bifrost with Mjölnir, and he couldn't even put a dent in Captain America's shield."

"Vibranium is naturally resilient," Richards mused thoughtfully, eyes fixed on the atom still hovering by Tony. "It could become more so when integrated with steel. But that's too inflexible for a bridge, so it must have been mixed with something else that gave it a bit more flexibility."

"So we have to find that material," Jane said.

"Easy enough," Tony said, grinning wryly.

"It'll be difficult," Richards corrected.

"I was being sarcastic."

"It might be _some_what easier," Jane said, smiling knowingly. "Especially considering you made an alien energy source in your basement without knowing what you were doing."

"I knew what I was doing." Tony folded his arms, definitely not sticking his chin out. "I built a particle accelerator in my lab."

"That's amazing," Richards said, and Tony couldn't even tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine. "But is that going to help us with actually building the bridge once we get the right materials?"

"I considered that," Tony said before Jane could say anything. "We can use this"—he patted the machine behind him—"to get us to Asgard. It'll be all downhill from there."

"If they could build the Bifrost, wouldn't they already have done it?" Richards pointed out.

"They can build it again, even if they need help," Jane said rather defensively. "It was already done once. They might not have the knowledge anymore. Their culture is ancient; that bridge might not even have been made by anyone currently alive."

"Which means we need to pack a suitcase," Tony suggested, earning himself a withering look from Richards.

"As much as I would like to take a vacation, it's not possible at this time," Richards said, looking steadily at Tony. "You know that, Tony."

Fine, yes. Richards had a point. Didn't mean Tony liked it. He had been sort of looking forward to going to Asgard at one point or another.

"I know." Tony tapped his fingers against his elbow. Data feeds from the machine behind him scrolled through his head for a brief moment before he shunted it to the back of his mind.

Richards suddenly leaned forward to get a look at where Tony was sitting, eyes peering down at the underside of the machine (not that he could get a very good look from where he was sitting). "What were you doing there?" he asked.

"Fixing it up." Tony gave him an innocent look that all the Avengers had grown immune to by now (much to his remorse). "It doesn't sound like it should."

"Don't break it."

"I _fix_ things," Tony said, peeved. "Like I'm going to fix that shiny rainbow bridge that connects Asgard to the rest of that giant tree Thor keeps waxing rhapsodic about. Yagsdral?"

"Yggdrasil," Richards corrected.

Jane sighed, shaking her head slightly. "To sum it up, we need to find the material that'll modify vibranium the way we need it to work and then we go to Asgard with Reed's portal so we can build it."

"After SHRA," Richards added.

Jane gave a disgusted huff. "It drives me _mad_ what they'll do. You'd think they'd learn, but they just can't."

Tony and Richards looked at her, both taken aback at the weariness and anger in her tone.

"I gather you're not a fan of the new act?" Tony asked delicately. (Yes, he could be delicate. Shut up.)

"I think it's ridiculous." She ripped apart the plastic covering on a bundle of wires, the loud sound perfectly emphasizing the expression on her face. "It's a gross invasion of personal privacy, and it's not going to solve anything." She looked up at the two of them. "It's not going to be easy, getting them to change their minds. They'll dig their heels in and refuse to change unless something drastic happens."

"A united superhero front not drastic enough?"

"It'll have to be." Jane offered a weak smile, plugging in her computer to the TV. Looking down at the screen, she said, "I'll let this run overnight, see what numbers we have tomorrow." Grabbing her jacket, she slung it over her arm. "Good night."

"Night." Tony's response was absentminded as he looked at Richards, who had an odd expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

Richards started slightly at being directly addressed. "Nothing." Then, sighing, he added, "Nothing pressing."

"You didn't get that look on your face 'til she started talking about what we need to do. Obviously it's pressing."

Richards's eyes darted up to Tony's face before skittering away. He didn't say anything, but Tony didn't move, wanting to know what had spooked him.

When Richards finally spoke, it was quiet. "When I heard that they were going to push through SHRA, I began looking for ways to stop it. I looked at other worlds to see if they had it as well, and how they dealt with it."

Other worlds? Well, Tony couldn't say Richards only did things half-baked.

"What I saw…" Richards waved a hand demonstratively. "In one, you were a woman. You married Captain America, taking the attention off me long enough so I could push for something else."

Stunned, Tony could only blink. He'd married Steve just because of that? Not because he'd loved him?

Not able to voice this to Richards, he went for something safer. "A woman?"

"Alternate world," Richards reminded him. "There was another where you stopped long enough to ask Captain America for his help, enabling the two sides to work together to work something out."

Something in the way Richards said that had Tony's hackles raising. "I stopped? Stopped what? What sides are you talking about?"

"There was civil war in another world," Richards said bluntly. "You were pro-registration, and Captain America led the opposing side. It tore the superhero community apart. In the end, Captain America surrendered." Now Richards was looking somewhat uncomfortable.

Tony waited a moment longer, but it didn't seem like Richards was going to continue. "You're not telling me something, Reed. Spit it out."

There was a short exhale, then Richards said, curtly, "Captain America was killed by an assassin directly before he could stand trial, on the steps of the courthouse. An alien invasion followed several months after, during which Norman Osborn became president of the United States."

"_Norman Osborn_?"

"There were extenuating circumstances, such as the aliens." Richards frowned. "I thought you'd be more concerned about Captain America being assassinated."

"I…" Tony swallowed dryly, needing to rest his head against the machine behind him. He was, but it was having difficulties sinking in, which was why he'd focused in on the horrible idea of _Norman Osborn_ being president of the United States. The man had sleaze ball written all over him, even more so than most politicians, so how even extenuating circumstances like aliens had gotten him to the office of presidency was slightly beyond Tony's ability to figure out (because he wasn't completely insane).

His brain-to-mouth function wasn't functioning properly when it came to voicing his distress regarding the possibility of Steve's death. So he opted for something easier. "Do we have to worry about the aliens?"

To his relief, Richards shook his head. "The battle against the Chitauri and the way you handled them most likely served to warn them off. I've been keeping an eye out, and while there were signs of an alien ship on trajectory for Earth, your response to the invasion was threatening enough to persuade them otherwise."

Oh, thank God. If Loki had to be good for something, it was for scaring off a potential alien invasion when they really couldn't afford one.

"If we stick together," he said instead of saying what he was thinking, "that won't happen. We can't afford it."

Richards nodded once. "Right."

Tony opened his mouth to say more, only to have Extremis give a ping as he received a text.

**From Steve Rogers (aka Captain America) **

Go to sleep, Tony.

**Received 23:37**

Huffing slightly, Tony fetched his phone out from his pocket to give him an excuse to leave (at some point).

Extremis pinged again.

**From Steve Rogers (aka Captain America)**

SLEEP, TONY. I'll know if you don't. Love, S

**Received 23:38 **

Frowning at his phone, Tony didn't have to wonder how Steve would know; he could feel JARVIS's familiar humming emanating from the small device. Giving the phone a raised eyebrow, he stowed it back into his pants and pushed himself off of the table.

"I'm going to bed," he said to Richards. "Night."

He didn't hear Richards's response, if there was any. For once, his entire mind was fixated on only one thing: the possibility that Steve could die. (And he couldn't; he _couldn't_.)

* * *

One week later, and they had made little progress. The main problem was somehow converting the pure energy of vibranium into something solid that would rebuild the bridge. It was likely they'd have to go to Asgard to do it, considering vibranium probably wasn't native to Earth.

Sighing lightly, Tony scanned over the latest set of readouts that would hypothetically solidify the element he had recreated. The steel that had gone into making Captain America's shield was a no go, as it wouldn't be able to channel the energy needed to form the bridge. The same went for almost every other element on Earth. Richards had ruled out compounds, saying they would be too unstable for the bridge.

Which pretty much meant that Tony had been stuck at the drawing board for the past week, using every known element in addition to vibranium to figure out something that would hold. It would've been totally awesome if it didn't remind him too much of when he'd been dying of palladium. He'd already had several nightmares about it the last several days and not even Steve's nighttime texts were enough to soothe him.

"Any luck?" Jane asked him, looking up from her own work. She'd also been helping considering her expertise, but Richards had needed her to begin working on the machine that would solidify the material when Tony had solved the problem. And since Richards had other things to do, that meant he and Jane were left alone quite often. At the moment, they were all present, meaning Jane could help Tony out (not that he admitted to _needing_ help, you know).

"Nope," he answered, not deigning to look away from the periodic table that was hovering in front of his face.

There was a small sigh from Jane. "Likewise."

"No rush," Richards proclaimed cheerfully. "We're already five years ahead of schedule!"

This time Tony met Jane's eyes, both of them repressing grins. He stifled a burst of laughter, turning it into a cough at the last moment.

That was when his phone (or Extremis, really) went off.

He picked it up mentally, not revealing anything on his face. "Hello?"

Spider-Man's voice, high and panicked, came through. "_You said I could call if I need help and I thought I could handle this – I did, I really did – but they're getting too close to where I __**live**__ and I only have her left—_"

"_Slow down,_" Tony tried to calm him down.

"_—and there are four of them and only one of me!_" Spider-Man's voice was harried and breathless as he finished speaking. But no, he continued after a quick breath, still at a rapid fire pace. "_I'm distracting them, but there's only so much a guy like me can do, and I can't let them kill her!_"

Tony was already pulling up the news with Extremis, glancing down at his shoes so as to hide his eyes. A news van was foolishly (but thankfully) covering the fight a distance away, enough for Tony to see the red and blue figure dancing in the streets before four powerfully built uniform clad figures. The neighborhood was suburban, and that was already enough to raise Tony's alarms.

Where was his team? This was major enough for it to hit the news live.

"_Calm down,_" Tony said to Spider-Man a second after the kid stopped speaking (a neat trick, especially since the footage was still showing him dodging blows via superhuman reflexes and absolutely amazing flexibility that was making him jealous). "_We'll get you help. I've already got an eye on it._" He'd pulled up the news footage on one of his tablet so it was hovering by his side, taking out his phone to dial Steve as he did.

"_Awesome!_" Spider-Man sounded breathless as he jumped on the large guy that looked kind of blue from Tony's angle (and it wasn't the holographs).

"_How are you talking to me right now?_" Tony asked curiously.

There was a short pause as his phone was picked up not by Steve, but JARVIS. "_The Avengers are currently engaged in Brooklyn with a domestic terrorist identifying himself as Mallen, sir. I have sent the Mark XII to your location._"

"_Not the time!_" The footage showed Spider-Man being flung off the blue guy only to roll to his feet on the ground, punching another more normally dressed opponent as he sprung to his feet. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to do much, as that guy promptly punched him back, knocking him to the ground.

"_Yeah, you're right. Be there in max ten minutes._" Tony just waited for the breathless affirmation before he hung up, speaking quickly to JARVIS. "Let the others know what's going on if you can. I'll be backing up Spider-Man."

"_Of course, sir,_" JARVIS said.

Hanging up, Tony looked for the Avengers using Extremis, tightening his lips when he found them facing off a guy who…was he breathing _fire_?

"What's going on?" Jane asked sharply, getting his attention.

Turning his attention reluctantly from the news footage of the Avengers (they could take care of themselves, they _could_), Tony reached out with Extremis to check where his suit was. It was about half a minute out, thank you, JARVIS. The Mark V wouldn't work at all for this.

"That," Tony replied, flipping the image around so both Jane and Richards could see what Spider-Man was facing. "And this." The periodic table morphed into the footage of the Avengers and the fire-breathing domestic terrorist, who incidentally wasn't breathing fire anymore. "I've got to go back up Spider-Man."

"Your armor won't stand up to that," Richards said pointedly.

"That won't," Tony agreed, gesturing back to where the Mark V was stashed, "but this will." On cue, the Mark XII shattered the windows, honing in on the bracelets Tony was wearing.

"I just had that fixed," Richards said peevishly.

"Sorry," Tony said as the armor clicked into place around him, face plate sliding down and the HUD flickering to life. "I'll pay for it," he said with the armor's voice.

In typical Reed Richards style, he wasn't paying attention, eyes fixed on the footage of the man the Avengers were fighting, who was now a blur on the screen. "I'll get the others," he volunteered.

Tony didn't reply, taking off with a curt "Bye" as he blasted out of the tower and into the open sky, data feeds from Extremis scrolling through his head simultaneously with the HUD before his eyes.

"I have diverted all powers to thrusters, sir," JARVIS said.

"Good man, JARVIS." Tony closed his eyes briefly as he initiated a short command that cut Extremis off from the HUD feeds, the double vision annoying him.

It was easy enough now to make sure Extremis wouldn't bother him too much, but it might be an entirely different thing once he got into the fight.

_"JARVIS…sometimes you gotta run before you can walk."_

Mouth quirking into a grin, Tony thought that he might just be able to swing this. He was _Iron Man_.

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**Apologies from the author for further antagonizing the bees.  
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	3. Part III

**Welcome back to An Alternative State of Mentality! We would like to apologize for the bees; we found several more beehives during the break and all were agitated. Once again, allergy shots are provided in the main cabin or in the seat pocket in front of you. Please keep your hands, feet, and heads inside the ride at all times and ensure that your seat belt is firmly fastened until the ride has come to a complete stop. We are expecting turbulence for this last part. Tissues and disposable vomit bags are provided in case of need.  
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**At the end will be a short message from the author. We hope you enjoy today's ride. Comments, critiques, and complaints are greatly appreciated (and may be considered depending on their type - flames are not accepted, but will provide amusing fodder).  
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**DISCLAIMER: The author owns none of the included franchises.**

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**Part III**

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Flying through the air as he did, it was slightly difficult to remember that he had a mission to accomplish. (Well, not really, but he was feeling a bit poetic.) Mindful of the fact that he _did_ have an ulterior motive in mind other than testing out the Mark XII, he opened up the communications line to the other Avengers, Captain America's voice filling his ears as he barked orders at a rapid fire pace.

Tony waited for a short lull before he cut in, saying, "Cap, I'll be backing up Spider-Man. You guys good?"

There was a short pause where Tony could feel the surprise from Steve. The response, when it came, was calm. "_We can handle this, Iron Man. What about you?_"

"All good on this end," Tony assured him, hearing his unspoken question. "We'll meet up afterwards."

"_Right._" Then Steve's voice turned harsh as he yelled, "_Black Widow, left! War Machine, back her up!_"

Tony turned down the volume while muting his end, not wanting to be left completely out of the loop since he couldn't see them. Then he focused on his flight and how Extremis was working with the suit.

It was, to put it simply, _amazing_. The suit was picking up the smallest muscle twitches and either ignoring them or responding instantly to make a small adjustment in positioning. It was like a second skin, an extension of himself.

He could feel JARVIS also working in the suit, though he couldn't act as fast as Extremis. Instinct told him that if he needed to fire a repulsor, his lasers, or a bullet, all it would take was a thought to calibrate and then fire.

It was exhilarating.

Tony drew out of his thoughts as he approached the neighborhood where Spider-Man was. He slowed down so as not to miss his mark, checking the lapsed time since he'd hung up: six minutes.

And not a moment too late as Spider-Man was splayed on the ground, about to be crushed by the large wrecking ball on a chain one of the super villains was touting. Tony yanked it out of his hands just as he landed in his signature pose; it left its wielder's grasp with a significant amount of resistance, meaning he had super strength.

Once in the air, though, it was simple enough to toss it behind him, straightening as he did, repulsors at the ready.

"Three on one?" he asked, sliding his right foot back to brace himself. "Doesn't seem very fair."

"Isn't supposed to be," the man who had almost crushed Spider-Man growled.

"My bad." Tony lifted his shoulders slightly in a small shrug, the suit effortlessly copying his movement. "I forgot super villains didn't read the handbook on fairness."

Spider-Man had rolled away from the villain by this time, coming up to his feet and remaining crouched. His frame was tense and quivering, muscles bunched up beneath the red and blue fabric (which looked a lot like spandex, but Tony was hoping that the kid was a little smarter than that).

There was a loud explosion not far off, and smoke started rising in the sky. Tony flickered his gaze over to it momentarily before refocusing on his opponents, noting that they hadn't flinched, which meant that they had planned it.

Spider-Man's reaction was unprecedented. "_Aunt May_! Damn it!" He whirled to Tony. "I need to go!"

A quick glance showed Tony what he had failed to notice before when he had saved Spider-Man: there were only three villains, and there had been four when he'd first seen the footage of Spider-Man.

"Go," he said shortly, jerking his head in the direction of the smoke. "I'll follow."

Spider-Man hesitated, uncertain. "What?"

"Get going!" Tony's sharp order was enough to get Spider-Man to quickly sprint past the villains and take a flying leap into the air, releasing a stream of webbing that stuck to one of the trees in one of the yards; then he was hurtling through the air.

"It's three on one again," the blond-haired villain said, stepping closer to Tony.

"Soon to be four," Tony said, eliciting confused looks.

"What—" the guy who had a really weird helmet on started.

Firing his thrusters, Tony took off into the air, reaching out with his telekinesis to grab onto the three. They cried out in surprise, flailing in the air as their feet left the ground. Tony made sure they were a safe distance apart from each other and himself before taking off in the direction Spider-Man had gone.

In mere seconds, he came across a smoking, flaming wreckage of a house. Spider-Man was outside and desperately trying to get past the burly man that was wielding a crowbar. (Yes, a crowbar; it took him a moment to realize he wasn't seeing things and that the guy was brandishing a run-of-the-mill weapon that would have Clint on the ground in laughter.)

"Attention, super villain," Tony announced, catching the villain's attention, "you will now be brought on Air Stark, regardless of your wishes and prior flight plans."

Without further ado, Tony snatched him up in the air, heedless of any squirming or flailing that was going on as the guy tried to get back on solid ground, and said to Spider-Man, "Get your aunt to the hospital. I'll meet you there when I'm done."

"Okay!" was all Tony got in response before Spider-Man flung himself into the wreckage.

A quick scan of the house for any life signs had Tony helpfully adding loudly, "Check the northwest corner."

Then he took off, four super villains in tow around him. He needed to get to an area with less civilians and a decreased likelihood of casualties. Property damage was a given, but it should at least be in a non-residential area.

"The streets leading into Brooklyn have been cleared, sir," JARVIS said.

Taking note of the map that flashed across the HUD, Tony just said "Right" before hightailing it there, not caring about the windburn he was giving his passengers.

When he reached his destination, he was thankful to see that it was vacant of human beings and the only objects present were that of the cars parked by the curbside. You had to love the efficiency of New Yorkers after they realized the potential dangers in being close to a war zone (this efficiency did not seem to apply to paparazzi, as they were still filming the Avengers' fight and were now trying to track his own movements).

Tony drew to an abrupt stop about fifteen feet from the ground. His passengers were hurled into the concrete.

"Prepare for landing," he announced belatedly.

To his surprise, the four villains got to their feet without any delay, shaking off the debris from their rough landing.

"Mind giving me your names?" Tony asked nonchalantly, using the time to come up with a plan now that he was up against four extremely resilient super villains. "Right now you're just super villain number one, super villain number two, you get the idea."

"We are the Wrecking Crew," the crowbar villain announced, glaring up at Tony. "Wrecker."

Tony barely had time to lament the redundancy of that name when the blond-haired guy said, "Piledriver."

The man with the helmet growled, "Bulldozer."

The last, who had wielded the ball and chain before Tony had divested him of it, said, "Thunderball."

Tony paused for a significant moment before saying, "I can really see the theme going on here. Any of you construction workers?"

"You're going to regret this, Iron Man," Wrecker warned.

"Oh good, you know my name." Tony prepared a repulsor. "But you're only half right."

He kept his attack at the level of firepower generally used for humans. It did absolutely nothing to Wrecker, who bared his teeth in a manic grin. Within a second (and a thought), his follow up attack had double the strength, enough to blow up a car.

This time the result was a red mark on Wrecker's arms and singed cloth.

"Oh boy," Tony muttered, quickly recalculating what he would need to do.

"Our turn!" Wrecker shouted, hefting his crowbar up.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Tony said flippantly. "I don't think any of you can fly, and I'm staying up here."

Words spoken too soon, as all Tony registered was Wrecker moving an arm before pain exploded across his mind and he was dropping like a stone, hitting the ground hard. Nothing was broken, but that seemed insignificant compared to the pain tearing through his head and the rest of his body.

He couldn't deal with this – _not now_ – he had to get a grip on it! Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he opened his eyes to find that he was curled up on his side, arms clasped over his head in a futile attempt to ward off the pain. His vision was too blurry to make out details, but he could tell that the Wrecking Crew hadn't come any closer.

Extremis was…Extremis wasn't shut down. If it was, then he would be dead. But he wasn't dead; the best he could tell was that it was hibernating, since he could still feel it, but it just wasn't responding.

It was so difficult to _think_; his brain was moving so sluggishly it was alarming.

But he'd had worse and had worked through _the arc reactor (first an electromagnet attached to a car battery) pressing on his lungs making it near impossible to breathe through the pain of his removed muscles and bones and the pressure of the obstruction pressing on his ribs, and yet he still hammered and forged and welded because he was Tony fucking __**Stark**__._

Still breathing (he was still _breathing_), he opened his eyes again (when had he closed them?) and pushed himself to his knees. Wrecker had come up to him now and was sneering down at him, crowbar at the ready to deal a lethal blow.

Tony fuzzily wondered what had happened to his armor because he wasn't hearing the quieted voices of his team or the babbling of the reporters. Sitting back on his knees, his breathing was heavy as he stared up at the man who had somehow disabled Extremis and was now going to kill him.

Well, screw that. Whoever thought he was helpless without his suit was a grade A moron and didn't deserve to be alive.

Mouth twitching into a pained smile, Tony had the breath to say, "Check."

Wrecker's eyebrows scrunched into confusion. "What?"

Flinging up his hands, Tony blasted him back with a focused mental blast. Wrecker crashed into Bulldozer, bowling him over.

Getting to his feet, Tony stumbled once before steadying himself. He felt unusually heavy, more so than he had since getting Extremis. Or maybe not _heavy_, but actually somewhat more normal since before he had felt so light that he could have jumped five feet into the air without trying.

His attention drew back to the Wrecking Crew when Bulldozer roared in anger and charged at him, head down for what looked to be an extremely painful head butt.

Tony didn't flinch, lifting him up in the air so he flew right overhead, crashing into the street a fair distance away. Then he moved, swiping his arm and sending the other three flying through the air in three different directions. He quickly reversed the direction, hopefully giving them whiplash, and clapped his hands together. The three collided in midair at the same time, falling to the ground in a heap.

Then, ducking, Tony focused on Bulldozer's oncoming charge from behind him, giving him an extra push that sent him crashing on top of the moving heap of the Wrecking Crew.

"Had enough?" he asked, blinking a trail of sweat out of his eyes. His heart was pounding and his nerves were tingling with pain; Extremis was still hibernating.

"You're just one man," Wrecker said, pushing off the other three to climb laboriously to his feet, still clutching the crowbar. "And you're almost falling over in pain. How much longer do you think you can keep this up? We can go _all day_."

Tony smiled, eyes tight with pain. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing." He lifted his hands, palms face down. "And anyone you ask," he continued conversationally, "will gladly tell you that I'm a really, _really_ sore loser."

With a small grunt, he pushed his hands down. The Wrecking Crew were smashed into the ground, the concrete around them cracking as the force of Tony's mental push buried them into the street.

He had talked with Jean about this one day during his stay at the X-Men:

_"Telekinetics have to be extraordinarily careful, do you know why, Tony?"_

_ "Because you can hurt everyone around you?"_

_ "Correct. You don't just move objects. You can stop them, too. You can hurt other people if you're not careful. This is why you need to know what you're doing at all times."_

_ "So, effectively, I could stop someone's heart? Or crush them into nothingness?"_

_ "I'm telling you this so that you don't go around experimenting and hurt someone you don't want to. Powerfully adept telekinetics – those who are actually able to __**feel**__ the world around them beyond just moving an object in their sight – are fully capable of killing people with a thought. A doctor who knows the human body's ins and outs could easily stop the heart or snap the brain stem. But it doesn't take a doctor to crush a human body with the mere pressure of the mind."_

_ "If this was a thing for even run-of-the-mill telekinetics, I think we'd be seeing a lot more of this happening."_

_ "You're right. It takes utter conviction to kill another in such a way. If there's even the slightest doubt in the mind, whether it be subconscious or conscious, it won't work. You'll always hold back from that last inch that could possibly kill another."_

_ "You do know that they used to call me the Merchant of Death, right? Why are you telling me this?"_

_ "Because I do trust you, Tony. You wouldn't have become Iron Man if you were still that man. And you need to know what you're capable of. You would have found out eventually, and it's better you know now than you find out later under duress. This way you have a choice."_

_ "Of whether or not to kill, you mean?"_

_ "You know your limits, Tony. I can't tell you exactly how your mind works because I don't __**know**__; I can't read it well enough to say. But I know enough of you to say that you're a good man."_

He could crush them right now. He could do it.

The image of M.O.D.O.K.'s body flying helplessly through the air to crash against the wall flashed through his mind.

But it wouldn't be right. Not now.

Releasing the pressure, Tony let his hands fall to his sides, breathing heavily from the exertion and the pain from the still hibernating Extremis.

He could do this. He'd fought through worse with a failing arc reactor and with his former mentor shouting in glee as he fired at him.

And now, focusing outside of the pain still wracking his body, Tony could sense a humming coming from the Wrecking Crew. It wasn't familiar, but it did have the general sense of an EMP, only far more advanced.

Something meant to stop Extremis in its tracks?

Exhaling sharply, Tony crushed the source of the humming, yanking it to him immediately afterward. The small device slammed into his open hand: it resembled a small radio.

Yet even with the device's death, Extremis still wasn't roaring to life. There were several more of these devices attached to the other three Wrecking Crew members. Tony ruthlessly squashed them and tore them off, meaning to study them later to figure out a way of blocking them.

The instant he did so, Extremis rushed back to life in a breathtaking stream of data. The pain washed away, and Tony could _breathe_. For several seconds, there was no stopping the relentless stream of data Extremis was flooding him with; then his safeguards and programs slammed into place and it retreated to the back of his mind, ready to be used when he needed it.

"Sorry, boys," Tony said, grinning lightly as he rolled his shoulders back. "You might want to ask for a refund on those toys of yours."

Piledriver was the first to climb out of the small crater Tony had made in the middle of the street. He was breathing heavily, but that was just about the only sign that he was at all affected. The other three Wrecking Crew members crawled out shortly afterward, lumbering rather shakily to their feet.

"Maybe I should be a little tougher on you guys," Tony remarked, folding his arms. "Seems like you can handle a lot."

"We'll kill you, Iron Man," Wrecker said lowly, glaring at him.

"If I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, I'd be a lot richer than I already am." Tony spread his arms, cocking his head to the side teasingly. "Give me your best shot. Or don't; I don't think it'll hit me considering your awful aim."

His words had the desired effect. Piledriver used his frankly massive hands to lift up a whole chunk of concrete and throw it at Tony. This was followed by Thunderball doing the same.

Tony knocked Piledriver's concrete slab to the right and Thunderball's to the left. Right on the heels of Thunderball's attack was a spinning crowbar courtesy of Wrecker. Tony had just enough time to send that spinning up into the sky right before Bulldozer bulldozed him. A hastily thrown up mental shield gave him enough of a cushion that instead of being killed, he was just thrown backwards into the air.

He should probably cut down on the whole taunting super villains thing, especially if he was without his suit. No matter how he hated to admit it, he _was_ more vulnerable than usual without the cover.

And where the _hell_ was his suit? He needed the damn thing!

No sooner had he thought this did he feel something slither over his skin. A blink later and then he was staring through his HUD and all the feeds scrolling across it. He was also staring at the sky and currently still flying through the air, so, priorities.

He corkscrewed, firing his thrusters and turning around to blast toward the Wrecking Crew. His first target was Bulldozer, and he hit him head on, cushioning the impact on his end with his telekinesis, although there was no cushion on Bulldozer's end.

"JARVIS," he said as he barreled Bulldozer and himself toward the other three villains, "what happened?"

JARVIS sounded perplexed. "I am uncertain, sir. The suit went temporarily offline, as did Extremis. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Tony gritted his teeth, angling up as he succeeded in driving Bulldozer directly into Wrecker. "I need to figure out how to get rid of them. Ideas?"

JARVIS was silent for a moment, analyses running across the HUD in quick succession. "Their files in S.H.I.E.L.D. list them all as having superhuman strength and durability," he said finally. "The member known as Wrecker is the leader, and he shares his strength with the others. Taking him down would theoretically incapacitate the others."

Tony narrowed his eyes, scanning up and down Wrecker's frame, now pushing his way out from under Bulldozer. "Worth a shot."

The simplest and easiest way to take Wrecker down would be to knock him out. But considering his resilience, just knocking him upside the head with a slab of concrete wouldn't get him anywhere. So that led to denying him necessary bodily functions.

Not the heart; that was too dangerous to meddle with. But maybe oxygen? Even the most durable of humans passed out eventually due to lack of oxygen. He could put pressure on Wrecker's throat, cutting off oxygen until the other guy passed out. He'd just have to be careful not to break any necks, but considering his durability, that might not be a problem.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, drifting in a lazy half circle above the Wrecking Crew.

Narrowing in on Wrecker, who was by now standing up, he focused on crushing his windpipe, going for a significant amount of strength on his first try. The effect was instantaneous: Wrecker dropped the crowbar, both hands going up to his neck as he fought against the mental pressure Tony was inflicting on his windpipe.

"The average time a human body can remain conscious without oxygen is five minutes, sir," JARVIS reported.

"Awesome," Tony said, desperately hoping nothing significant happened in those five minutes that would distract him from this.

He'd hit the minute mark and was dodging the concrete slabs Piledriver was throwing his way while Thunderball ineffectively tried to help Wrecker when his hope for nothing significant happening was ignored.

The line he'd kept open to the Avengers suddenly broke into frantic shouting as Captain America yelled, "_Black Widow is down! I repeat, Black Widow is down! Hawkeye, can you get to her?_"

"_I can't! Son of a bitch is too fast!_"

"_War Machine!_"

"_On it, Captain._" Rhodey's voice was grim. "_Watch your back._"

"Shit." Tony tightened the squeeze on Wrecker's throat; the man's face whitened even more and he collapsed face first onto the ground, startling Thunderball.

"He will regain consciousness in thirty seconds once unconscious," JARVIS said.

Tony didn't think; he just yanked Wrecker's arms out of his sockets and broke both his legs, envisioning the bones of the body as he did. For once he was thankful to Hansen for forcing him to cram so much biology into his head.

There was a gargled sound that would have been a scream if Tony wasn't still cutting off vital oxygen. Piledriver threw a car at him, which he dodged by moving to the left.

"Okay, new plan," Tony said, looking down at the Wrecking Crew. "This is taking too long."

"_Cap, your left!_"

"_I've got it!_"

"_I've got the shot!_"

"_Take it!_"

Bruce had told him one time of a spot on the head that could drop people into unconsciousness almost instantly. It was akin to the Vulcan nerve pinch, but a bit more specific than just a spot on the neck.

If he could just remember where it was…

A few seconds and a quick scan of the Internet later, Tony had pressed on the nerves while still choking Wrecker. The effect was immediate; Wrecker dropped like a stone. Piledriver also dropped the large truck he had been about to fling at Tony, unable to lift it.

"I'd say I'm sorry," Tony said, landing on the ground with a solid thump and approaching them, repulsors at the ready, "but I'm really not. So who's next?"

"The crowbar possesses Wrecker's powers," JARVIS informed him. "I would advise not touching it, as S.H.I.E.L.D. has noticed that people who do are susceptible to some sort of mind control."

Silently, Tony pulled the crowbar from Wrecker's side and drew it to his own. His hands were still up, repulsors crackling ominously.

One second passed. No one moved.

Then Tony jumped into action, firing his gauntlets at full power at Piledriver and Thunderball simultaneously. The impact blew them backward into a lamppost and car respectively. Bulldozer was last, and he received a full power blast from the chest RT, which had been powering up even as Tony fired his gauntlets.

After Bulldozer's crash into a building, Tony just stood there, breathing heavily as his body tingled strangely. There was no movement from the Wrecking Crew members, save for a faint moan of unconscious pain from Wrecker.

Tony was about to leave them to help his team when the reporter he had been largely ignoring in favor of listening to the chatter from the Avengers suddenly said excitedly, "_The Fantastic Four is joining the battle! The Thing is leading the charge, attacking the opponent. The fire attack on the Thing seems to be having no effect, and the Human Torch is coming in fast! And it's the Invisible Woman coming with a force field. Mr. Fantastic is backing up Captain America._"

Sagging slightly in relief, Tony pulled up the footage in his mind, relieved to see that Steve was fine, having been retrieved from the front line by Richards. Sue was utilizing her force fields to block the villain's attacks, while Johnny was combating fire with fire. Grimm didn't seem to be having any trouble, what with his entire body being made out of some sort of rock.

After a last glance over the very unconscious villains, Tony sent off an urgent memo to S.H.I.E.L.D. to tell them to pick up the Wrecking Crew. He was going to need to talk to Hansen anyway, and it was better to weasel his way into Fury's good books, however temporary it would be.

His job now done, Tony began looking for the signal from the phone he'd given Spider-Man. Once he found it, he made his way there, beginning to feel rather shaky now that the adrenaline was gradually dying down. It hadn't been a piece of cake to work through the pain earlier.

When he arrived at the front doors of the large hospital Spider-Man had taken his aunt to, he landed and lifted the face plate so as to seem more approachable. Then, clanking slightly, he walked through the doors and up to the front desk, heedless of the stares and gawks he was getting.

"Red and blue superhero called Spider-Man," he told the receptionist. "Should've arrived a little while ago."

Rather wide-eyed, the receptionist nodded. "Yes. He's in the waiting room by the OR."

"Thanks." Unable to stop from slumping in exhaustion, Tony leaned slightly against the countertop, not wanting to collapse the thing under the suit's not-so-insignificant weight, even though it felt like a pair of clothes on him. He really should have slept last night instead of pretending to after texting Steve.

No sooner had he thought this did the weight of the suit vanish with a slight melting sensation that had him shivering slightly. When the sensation dissipated, the receptionist was bug-eyed and there were startled exclamations from everyone in the room.

He was, he realized belatedly, stark naked. Which didn't really make any sense because he had had clothes earlier. He knew he had clothes earlier. Which begged the question as to where those clothes were now and where his armor had gone.

Looking down revealed nothing other than the fact that he was very naked and had some bruises running up his legs and hips, probably from when he'd hit the ground when Wrecker had disabled Extremis.

"One more thing," Tony said pleasantly, bracing himself against the counter, "can I have some clothes?"

By the time Tony found Spider-Man curled up in one of those goddamn awfully uncomfortable chairs, he'd been supplied hospital scrubs. They were green and looked awful with his complexion, but it was the best he could do until he got his hands on some actual clothes.

"Hey," Tony said, getting the kid's attention.

Spider-Man slowly lifted his head, seeming to do a double take when he saw Tony. "Why are you wearing scrubs?"

"I was naked," Tony said, flopping down in the seat next to Spider-Man. "Dunno why." His head rested against the wall. "How's it going?"

Spider-Man shook his head, curling his legs up to his chest. "No word yet. She…she was really badly burned. I found her crushed under…" He couldn't seem to finish the sentence.

"She'll make it," was all Tony could think of saying to help alleviate Spider-Man's worries. "I'd get the best surgeon the world has to offer, but she'd be out of the room before he gets here."

"It's fine." Spider-Man let out a shaky sigh. "What happened?"

"I had S.H.I.E.L.D. pick up the four guys," Tony said, closing his eyes to check one of the camera feeds around the area where he'd been fighting. There were several agents there already to pick up the four members, one of whom was carefully picking up the crowbar with a pair of tongs. "After I kicked their asses."

"Great." Spider-Man's voice was faint. It was a moment more before he said, tone strained, "I don't understand how they knew where I lived. I've been so careful. She's…she's all I have left." His hands tightened on his legs. "I wouldn't have risked her life."

Hesitating slightly, Tony worked his hand nervously for a few seconds before reaching up to place it gently at the nape of Spider-Man's neck. "I know you wouldn't have. Frankly, it's probably S.H.I.E.L.D. you have to look at. They were compromised a while back."

"None of them were ever near the house," Spider-Man insisted. "I would've noticed."

"Then maybe it was A.I.M.," Tony said. "I don't know what they're fully capable of, but they must have been keeping an eye on you for a while to know your address."

Spider-Man knocked his head back against the wall, dislodging Tony's hand as he did so. "I don't know what to do," he confessed quietly. "I thought I could protect her, but I couldn't even fight off four guys when you could."

"To be fair," Tony said dryly, "I'm a mutant. Even then, it wasn't easy."

"That's just it," Spider-Man said. "I have these powers for a reason. I'm trying…I'm trying to protect people. But if I can't even protect my own family…how am I supposed to protect _others_?"

Tony was silent for a moment, considering. His voice was subdued when he spoke. "I can't protect everyone either. When I started…it was in a cave. I couldn't protect the one thing – the one person who saved me. And I've done my best to live up to his memory, but I keep taking steps back. I do one thing, but something else happens." He shrugged lightly. "You've got to do the best you can with what you've got."

"I think you've done great," Spider-Man said quietly.

"How sweet of you." Spider-Man's response was a punch to his shoulder. "Ow. Okay, fine. You're doing good, too, kid."

"Not a kid," Spider-Man grumbled, pulling his hand back.

"You sound like a kid."

"I have a girlfriend!"

"Cute."

"No, seriously, _what am I supposed to do_?" Spider-Man leaned in close as he whispered this. "I can't stay around her anymore!"

Tony blinked down at him. "Your girlfriend or your aunt?"

"Either…both!" Spider-Man drew back, rubbing his hands over his head. "I—"

Tony interrupted him as Extremis pinged with the signal of Captain America's communicator, "I've got to take this. Hang on a moment." Picking up and closing his eyes as he did, he said, "_Cap?_"

"_Iron Man._" Steve sounded like he was keeping his voice calm through great force of will. "_Report._"

"_All fine on this end,_" Tony said truthfully. "_I'm at the hospital with Spider-Man; someone he knows got injured._"

"_And you?_"

"_Bruises, but nothing major. How's Black Widow?_"

"_She'll be fine. Can you send me your coordinates?_"

"_Done,_" Tony said, sending them off. "_I'll meet you outside._"

"_Received._"

The line disconnected then, and Tony opened his eyes, sighing as he picked his head up off the wall.

"I have to leave," Spider-Man said suddenly.

Tony looked over at him, rather confused. "What?"

"I can't stay with her," Spider-Man said, turning his head to look at Tony. "It's too dangerous."

"You can't just leave her here either," Tony pointed out.

"I know," Spider-Man moaned, ducking his head. "But I can't _stay_."

Working his bottom lip as he thought, Tony finally blew out a breath and said, "I can call Happy. Take her somewhere safe. No one has to know. For all they know, she died on that table." He nodded at the OR doors.

There was a small flinch from Spider-Man. "I… Is that possible?"

"I'm Tony Stark," Tony said wryly. "I can _make_ it possible. In the meantime, you can stay with us. At least until we get this sorted out."

Spider-Man was quiet for a few moments. Finally, he said, "This wasn't exactly my plan when I started this gig."

Tony shrugged, getting to his feet and clapping Spider-Man on his shoulder. "Join the club. Plans usually get blown out of the water by the second hour. You leaving with me? I'll be meeting Cap outside."

"Right." Spider-Man sounded distracted as he stood up, face turned in the direction of the OR.

Tugging gently at Spider-Man's elbow, Tony let go once Spider-Man fell into step after him.

They'd stepped outside when Spider-Man said, quietly, "I don't think she knew that I'm Spider-Man. She knew I was doing something, but I don't think she knew what."

Yinsen and his old eyes, able to see straight through Tony's shields and bluster and right to the core of him, came to Tony's mind.

"Sometimes," Tony said, tilting his head up as he felt Rhodey's suit approach, "our elders are those who know us better than we do."

Spider-Man didn't respond, as it was at that point that War Machine landed in front of them. Or what _should_ have been War Machine.

"Rhodey, what the hell?" Tony stared blankly at the mockery that had been made of his beloved suit. It was decked out in red, white, and blue just like Captain America's suit.

"Hello, Tony." Rhodey sounded resigned.

"Did the army decide that they just had to have a Captain America of their own? What excuse is there for this god awful paint job? Are you supposed to be the Iron _Patriot_?"

There was a brief hesitation before Rhodey admitted, "Yes."

"What." Tony narrowed his eyes. "I don't even."

"Tony." Steve's voice was firm as he cut in. "Why are you dressed in hospital scrubs?"

"He was naked," Spider-Man said. "I didn't see, but apparently everyone else did, because there were lots of stares."

"Why were you naked?" Steve asked. "Were you fighting without clothes?"

"I really wouldn't ask," Rhodey advised him.

"I wasn't naked before," Tony said peevishly. "I don't fight naked. That'd be bad etiquette. What if I show the bad guy my junk?"

"You lost your clothes?"

Tony shrugged, hating the scratchy quality of the scrubs. "Somehow. Maybe the news will show it, because I know they were filming the fight."

"Right." Steve just stood there, unusually stiff.

Tony gave him a look over before scanning the surroundings. There were some paparazzi, but they were staying a short distance away considering that Captain America was in a rather bloody uniform, a fully outfitted War Machine was standing there, Spider-Man was hovering by his elbow, and they had probably just seen Tony take down four super villains with only a few bruises.

"You can touch me," he said quietly to Steve.

Steve twitched, closing his eyes and taking a breath. When he opened them, he said, "If I touch you now, I'm not going to let go."

Shrugging, Tony opened his arms. "No objections on this end. Really. I'm open to hugs. Ask Spider-Man."

"He's very huggable," Spider-Man said dutifully, "but I've never hugged him."

Tony promptly wrapped an arm around the kid's shoulders, squeezing him to his side for a brief moment before letting go. "Rectified."

"If you're having trouble keeping from jumping Tony's bones, I could take him," Rhodey offered. "I don't see him that way. The suit can definitely take both of you." The head of the armor tilted slightly to the side. "What happened to yours, Tony?"

Tony shrugged. "It might be in my bones. Or invisible. I'm not entirely sure."

Steve wrapped an arm around Rhodey's waist similar to his usual flying stance with Tony. "Baxter Building." The two words were a demand.

"I have better machines than Richards," Tony pointed out, staying back.

"Everyone else is with them," Steve said.

It took Tony all of a second to make his decision. "Fine. Baxter Building it is." He held out a hand to Spider-Man. "Come on. I'll give you a ride."

Now it was Spider-Man who was hesitating. "How?"

"Ye of little faith," Tony said, rolling his eyes.

Kicking off into the air with a push from his feet, Tony mentally grabbed hold of Spider-Man, who yelped. There was no need to keep his telekinesis a secret anymore; practically everyone in New York must have seen the live footage of him using it against the Wrecking Crew by now.

"That will never stop looking weird," Rhodey mused, firing his own thrusters to follow Tony.

Tony really hoped that whatever had happened wouldn't mean being benched again. He felt perfectly fine, even with the heavier than usual (since he'd gotten Extremis) feeling he had now. At least he wasn't feeling like the smallest breeze would topple him over now.

* * *

Natasha didn't look too good. She was completely ashen, her bright red hair a vivid contrast against her white skin. She had bandages wrapped around her torso, the lower half of which was a rusty red.

"Shouldn't she be in the hospital?" Tony asked, pointing at her. She was lying down on the couch in the living room of Richards's.

"No." Natasha's answer was crisp.

"Yes, actually," Bruce corrected, coming into the living room, drying his hands on a towel. "We were just advised against it for the moment."

"We called S.H.I.E.L.D.," Clint said, leaning over the back of the couch by Natasha's head, knuckles white as he gripped the fabric. "They'll be looking at her."

"Just as well," Tony said, "I need to talk to Hansen."

Clint gave him a cursory look over. "Are you and no clothes going to become a thing? Because if you are, I'd like advanced warning so I can have an extra pair of boxers on me."

"I had clothes," Tony said, affronted. "They disappeared."

"He was dressed when he left," Jane confirmed, standing next to Sue by the doorway.

Bruce blinked. "Fascinating."

Tony rolled his eyes, turning the TV on with a thought and switching it to a news channel that was playing back the footage of the fights. "Let's see what happened."

Steve was vibrating with tension next to him, arms folded across his chest. Tony glanced at him askance, making to rest a hand on his arm. A quick head shake deterred him from this notion and he turned away, confused and hurt. They weren't in public anymore, not that Steve had ever shied from showing affection where everyone could see. What was wrong?

In an effort to take his mind off the conundrum, he focused on the television, watching the footage of Spider-Man taking on the Wrecking Crew, the original voice recording speaking over it as if it was still happening, "_Spider-Man is having trouble holding his own. The one with the crowbar has left the scene. And…_" Spider-Man was now about to be squashed by Thunderball. "_Oh my God… He's—_"

That was when the wrecking ball was pulled out of Thunderball's hands and Iron Man made his entrance, smoothly standing up after landing.

"_Iron Man is here! How did he pull away the weapon?_"

The suit looked strange; the colors were different.

"It looks a bit like a cockroach," Johnny said.

"Hey," Tony snapped, though it had no real bite. It looked like JARVIS had gone and used Dummy's new color scheme without clearing it first through Tony, though he'd have to compare it to the figurine still in his workshop to be sure. It looked even cooler in real life (and not at all like a cockroach, thank you very much).

"_Spider-Man has left the scene,_" the reporter was saying, "_leaving Iron Man alone. No, wait… He's leaving! And so are they?_"

The confusion was understandable, as there was no real reason for the Wrecking Crew to be floating after Iron Man.

The reporter was so excited he was talking rapidly. "_It's public knowledge now that Iron Man is a mutant. Is this his mutant power?_" A short pause. "_It's being theorized that it's telekinesis, the ability to move other objects with one's mind._"

The footage stopped there to cut to the anchorman speaking live, the still image of Iron Man and the Wrecking Crew flying in the upper right corner of the screen. "_That was what we hypothesized_," the anchorman said, "_and it was further supported by this._" There was a cut to Iron Man flying through the air, the entire Wrecking Crew flailing around him shortly before being hurled into the street. "_But something else happened. We'll let you see for yourselves before we converse with an expert._"

Tony highly doubted the credibility of their "expert," but he focused on the footage that was showing now. It had been taken from a helicopter judging from the angle they were showing the fight at.

He was flying above the villains, so whatever Wrecker had done to disable Extremis should be kicking in any moment… When it happened, he was surprised. The suit just disappeared, and then he was dropping like a stone to the street.

Beside him, Steve twitched, but he didn't make any movement beyond that.

"_The suit has vanished,_" the reporter was saying incredulously. The camera zoomed up close, and Tony could clearly see that he was screaming at this point. "_He seems to be in incredible pain._"

No one said anything funny in response to that particular line, all too focused on what was happening on-screen, even though Tony was clearly fine and standing next to a very tense Steve. Wrecker was approaching the other Tony, who was curled up on his side.

But now the on-screen Tony was slowly getting to his knees. Tony could see how dazed he had looked at that point, face ashen in pain.

"_He's not going to be able to handle this,_" the reporter said slowly, voice strained.

Before Tony could snort at the overly dramatic statement, his past self on the TV screen took care of Wrecker. Then he handed the entire crew their asses on a platter and destroyed the Extremis-inhibiting devices. He wondered where the devices were now; he'd lost the one he had grabbed when the suit had come back on.

"Remind me not to get you mad," Spider-Man said, watching as several concrete slabs were batted aside. Still in the War Machine suit and standing next to him, Rhodey nodded once in agreement.

The reporter was talking excitedly again. "_It's confirmed. Tony Stark has telekinesis! And full control over it! And – oh!_"

On screen, Tony was flying through the air courtesy of Bulldozer. Then, suddenly, his clothes began to rip apart, red and gold metal sliding over his skin to click into place. Not even two seconds later Iron Man was spinning around to wreak his vengeance on the Wrecking Crew, and that was when the footage cut back to the anchorman, this time sitting with the so-called "expert," a respectable looking middle-aged man in a smart suit. The name caption named him as Richard Dawkins.

"_What was __**that**__?_" the anchorman asked, sticking a pen at the screen behind them, which was a still frame of the suit melting out of Tony's skin; the focus had zoomed in on it so it could clearly be seen that the suit was literally coming _out_ of his skin (it was honestly not the strangest thing he'd ever seen, but did come pretty close to it). "_Is it possible for a mutant to have two separate powers?_"

"_It's perfectly possible,_" Dawkins agreed. "_Typically, it's omega level mutants who have two or more abilities. They're the most powerful. Considering Tony Stark's talent with technology, it's not too surprising he would also be a technopath._"

"_Why haven't we seen this happening before?_" the anchorman asked. There was a small clip on the screen of the first time the Mark V had been used. "_An ability like this would have been extraordinarily useful._"

"_Before people didn't know,_" Dawkins explained. "_Now they do, so there is no reason to hide. It's still dangerous being a mutant, although strides have been made to lessen this._"

Somewhere Tony could hear Logan giving a snort of disgust and saying, "What a crock full of shit."

"_Is Tony Stark an omega level mutant?_" the anchorman asked.

"_At the moment it would be only speculation, but it's certainly possible,_" Dawkins said. "_There aren't many mutants capable of holding their own or even defeating four opponents who are also mutants._"

"False," Tony said to the screen, even though Dawkins couldn't hear him. "You don't have to be omega level to defeat guys with the IQ of stones."

"Shh," Natasha hushed him, not taking her eyes off the screen.

Tony quieted, but he didn't pay attention to the TV. It was a waste of memory space listening to that crap, and Steve could fill him in later if need be. Instead, Tony looked down at his right hand.

It looked completely normal. There was nothing to say that he had the suit in his bones. The only thing that even hinted at the difference was that he felt like he weighed more than a feather now.

The only way to check was to see if he could get the suit to come out now. Preferably not the entirety of it because he didn't have any spare clothes directly on hand, but maybe just the gauntlet. It should theoretically be possible.

Still staring at his hand, Tony focused on the denseness he felt in his bones, trying to bring it to the forefront. He kept the focus on his hand.

It was sudden when it happened. Red and gold melted out of his skin, seeping over his hand and solidifying, hardening to become the familiar gauntlet of his suit. It stopped just beyond his wrist, the metal of the gauntlet fading back into his skin.

"That's kind of weird," Johnny said, drawing everyone else's attention to what Tony had done.

Ignoring them, Tony turned his hand around, eyeing the centerpiece. Would he be able to fire a blast like this?

There was a sparking sensation from his chest that tingled down to his hand, and the centerpiece of the gauntlet flickered and crackled with energy, glowing blue. Noting the sharp inhalation from Steve, Tony cut the power like he would if he were actually in the suit, and the light flickered out.

"Should you be doing that?" Steve asked conversationally.

Tony glanced at him, seeing lines of tension on his face that weren't revealed by his tone. "Better I do it now than later when it might backfire rather spectacularly. No one wants that."

"And that's why you want to talk to Hansen," Bruce said.

"Yep." Tony curled his hand into a fist, marveling at how natural the sensation felt. He straightened it out a moment later, focusing on calling the gauntlet back into his skin. It seeped back into his pores a second later, leaving smooth, unblemished skin in its wake.

"This is way too sci-fi for my taste," Johnny announced, turning the TV off with a click of the remote, ignoring the twin glares he was receiving from Natasha and Clint.

"You got your powers in space," Clint pointed out. "While doing research. How is that not sci-fi enough?"

"We don't have metal suits in our bones."

"I'd like to run scans on that," Richards added.

"No." Tony was far curter than he had meant to be.

"Are you sure, Tony?" Rhodey asked. "D'you remember the last time you tried to take care of things yourself?"

"It's not even on the table." Tony folded his arms across his chest to hammer his point home. "If I run scans, it'll be back home, where I have the best security on the planet. Not in a building that Doom keeps attacking because of some outdated vendetta."

Richards started, "Can I—"

Tony didn't let him finish. "No. Absolutely not." If Richards even got an inkling as to why this was possible, he had no doubt that he would try to do something with it. And Extremis was far too dangerous.

"Why are you talking to someone else then?" Richards demanded.

"Because she's the expert." Tony's lips thinned as he looked pointedly away to signal that the conversation was closed.

Richards wouldn't let it go. "The expert on technopaths?"

"For the love of—" Tony dropped his arms to his sides, exasperated. "I am not a _technopath_. I have an affinity to technology, an _affinity_. That does not mean I am a technopath."

"If you've got a technological suit able to come out of your skin, maybe you are one," Grimm said.

There were a few things wrong with Grimm's assessment, but Tony wasn't going to enlighten him as to what. It seemed that Richards had made up his mind on the matter, and Tony wasn't going to change it because that would lead to unwanted questions. Richards would no doubt want to do things with Extremis that Tony couldn't condone; and not because he'd knocked out most of the world's power and didn't want to risk that happening again.

Thankfully, it was at that moment that Steve's communicator went off. He didn't answer it, but nodded to Clint and Natasha.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.," he explained shortly, not elaborating further.

"I think I'll stay here," Bruce volunteered.

"I'm coming," Rhodey said, his tone allowing for no arguments.

"I don't want to go," Spider-Man said, sighing, "but I probably should."

"There's no need for you to come," Steve told him.

Spider-Man visibly slumped in relief. "Awesome, thanks."

"Let's go already," Clint urged, practically vibrating where he stood. He reached down to help Natasha up.

"I can walk," she said stiffly, slapping his hand away. Her other hand was wrapped protectively around her torso.

"No, you can't," Bruce corrected calmly, eyes flicking over to Tony.

"Am I a gurney?" Tony asked, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Do I look like a gurney to you?" This was asked of Steve.

Steve smiled at him, suddenly looking much more relaxed. "You're a very handsome gurney."

"That is a hell of a lot of sap," Johnny commented. He was promptly slapped on the head by Grimm. "Ow!"

"If you drop me," Natasha told Tony seriously, "you will regret it."

"I'm insulted that you think so little of my abilities," he retorted, lifting her off the sofa. The tense lines around her eyes told him that the rather weak insult had been her attempt at grasping at a semblance of normality after being so seriously injured; the least he could do was indulge her, even if she would knock him out for ever thinking that.

He needed to talk with Hansen. And then they needed to figure out what the deal was with Mallen. Despite the Fantastic Four's involvement, he had managed to escape with the help of his super speed.

It didn't sit well with him that the combined forces of the Avengers and the Fantastic Four weren't able to bring in one man, even if he had possessed superpowers.

* * *

The ride to the Helicarrier was silent for the most part. Steve had been thoughtful enough to duck into Tony's room in the Baxter Building for two minutes to grab a change of clothes since hospital scrubs weren't the best to see Fury with, especially since last time Tony had been dressed in A.I.M.'s uniform.

There had been some stares on the Quinjet due to Tony's lack of dress, but after putting Natasha in the designated bed, Tony had promptly stripped and redressed in the button-up shirt, suit jacket, and pants. The personnel on board had been a bit too busy dealing with Natasha to pay attention to someone changing clothes.

They were met on the tarmac by Fury, who had his hands tucked behind his back as he watched them exit the flight craft.

"I'm having trouble deciding if you're stupid or self-destructive," Fury said to Tony the moment they were face to face.

"If you've read my file," Tony said, smiling sweetly as he pulled down on his suit jacket, "then you'd know it's the latter."

Fury didn't smile, but there was a glint in his eye that hinted at amusement. He looked over Tony's shoulder to nod at someone. "Barton. Captain. Lieutenant Colonel."

"Director." Clint's voice was cool.

Steve's voice had a lance of steel running through it. "Afternoon."

Rhodey clanked over to Tony's side, looming over Fury. "Director Fury." His tone was the most genial, though still void of inflection.

Mentally hoping there wouldn't be a pissing contest not started by him, Tong suggested, "Let's walk and talk." He stepped to the side to let the medical personnel and Natasha by.

Once they were out of the wind and inside the Helicarrier, following Natasha's entourage, Fury said, "Let's cut the bullshit and get to the point."

"Hansen," Tony said.

"She's in our custody," Fury said. "As is the Wrecking Crew."

"I noticed." Tony smiled lightly. "Everything good on that end?"

"They're confined," Fury confirmed.

"Have you gotten any whereabouts on Mallen?" Steve asked.

"If I recall correctly, Captain, S.H.I.E.L.D. is no longer required to aid the Avengers."

"You're supposed to watch out for the public," Tony pointed out before Steve could. "That means keeping an eye on people who can breathe fire."

Fury stared at Tony for a long, silent moment. Then he turned his gaze back to the front, saying curtly, "He's dropped off the radar for now. We're keeping an eye on it."

"He breathes fire, shrugs off Captain America's shield, and is bulletproof," Clint said tensely. "Not to mention how his fingers transform into claws and he can shoot electricity. _How_ did a guy like _that_ drop off the radar, Director?"

Fury seemed displeased as he said, "We're working on it."

"Need any help?" Tony asked sarcastically, raising his eyebrows.

Fury glared at him. "No."

"_Is_ there anything we can help with?" Rhodey cut in, shooting Tony a warning look.

Fury sighed as they reached the medical bay, stopping outside the doors as they closed behind the medical personnel and Natasha. "You didn't come here to offer your help, so cut the bullshit. You're here for Hansen?" The look on his face told Tony he had already seen the news and knew what Tony had to talk to her about.

"Yes," Tony answered. "You've got somewhere we can talk?"

Fury looked at him for a long indiscernible moment. Then, sighing, he turned to the closed doors to the medical bay. "Yes."

Clint stepped up to stand directly by Tony. "I'm coming with," he said in a tone that bode no arguments.

"Natasha?" Tony asked, turning his head to look at him.

Clint turned so his back was to Fury, pitching his voice solely for Tony. "Nat and I have been out for the last couple weeks gathering intel. We've got something, but we're not sure what. Hansen probably holds the last puzzle piece. I can read body language better than you can. You'll get your answers, and I'll get mine."

Tony nodded once, gaze flicking back to Fury. "He comes with."

"Good to know. Anyone else?" Fury's gaze went over Steve and Rhodey.

"I'll stay," Rhodey volunteered. "I'll let you know what they say when I get the news."

"Terrific," Fury said, sounding anything but enthused. "Now let's get going before another major catastrophe happens."

* * *

Despite Fury's statement, it took a good ten minutes before they had a small boxlike private room where Tony found himself sitting across a drab metal table from Hansen. Steve and Clint took up silent positions against the wall, Clint behind Tony so he could keep an eye on Hansen, and Steve on the opposite side.

Tony glanced askance at the one-way mirror where he could see Fury and another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent (only because of Extremis accessing the cameras, not because of any X-ray vision, though that would be seriously cool). He jerked his head slightly, making sure to look significantly at where he knew the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was standing. From the camera he was still in, he could see Fury heaving an exasperated sigh and dismissing the agent.

The recordings would be kept private with only Fury's clearance high enough to access them. Satisfied that there would be no unwanted watchers, he turned his attention to Hansen.

"Cozy?" Tony asked, scanning her rather drab gray jumpsuit.

"I can't complain," Hansen said, smiling falsely.

"Great." Tony laid his right hand on the table, palm down. "So let me start this nice and easy: Is there anything else you want to tell me about Extremis? Any hidden surprises that I should've known about before you injected me with it?"

Hansen blinked, not having anticipated this. "It's all in the code."

Tony smiled blandly. "That's great. Except for the fact that I'm not a biologist. So you'll have to explain to me the parts that only a person like you could understand."

"It rewrites the body to its own standard of perfection," Hansen started, eyes flicking down to Tony's hand.

"You've said that several times, Doctor," Tony interrupted, rapping his fingers against the table impatiently. "But I don't think _this_ is supposed to be a standard of perfection, is it?" He called forth the gauntlet, letting it envelop his hand. "Unless you intended to create a new breed of super humans who were technological weapons?"

Hansen's eyes widened at the sight; she inhaled excitedly. "Is that new?" she asked quietly, eyes fervent with excitement.

"I was born with it," Tony quipped. "Yes, it's new, what do you think? Do you mind explaining?"

"It _is_ Extremis's standard of perfection," Hansen said, taking her eyes off the gauntlet to meet Tony's eyes. "It absorbs and adapts forms of technology that it finds suitable for use. Your suit is a marvel of technology, far beyond anything else that anyone has produced today. It's no surprise that Extremis absorbed it for easier use."

"This is easier?" Tony asked skeptically, lifting his hand up to flex it. "It rips off all my clothes when I use it. How is that easier?"

Hansen didn't look embarrassed aside from a small flush on her cheeks. "I'm sure you could fashion something to use."

"I could," Tony agreed, "but that's not the point. Is there anything else I should be concerned about? Am I going to continue to absorb technology that Extremis finds is suitable?"

"That depends," Hansen said. "Considering that it absorbed your suit first, it will likely not absorb anything else unless it is of a similar quality. So a cell phone will not be absorbed, but your arc reactor will be."

"Already done." Tony tapped a gauntleted finger against the power source in his chest, absorbing the metal back into his bones as he did. Flexing his hand once again, he drew it under the table to join his left. He flashed a fake smile. "When you initially injected me with it."

"I won't apologize for it," Hansen said.

"Wasn't expecting you to." Tony leaned forward. "Now let's talk logistics. Is there anyone else besides M.O.D.O.K. who knew what ran Extremis? Or was it just you and your assistants?"

"Thomas and Sarah never knew the entirety of what went into Extremis," Hansen said. "They were aware of the basic foundation, but not of the intricacies that made up the program."

"I took care of M.O.D.O.K. when I got out," Tony said lowly. He saw Steve start slightly before stilling. "Assuming he was the only one besides you who knew what Extremis was made of"—his face made it clear how skeptical he was of this—"who else would know how to shut off the program? Or were you in contact with the Wrecking Crew by any chance?"

Hansen frowned. "I've never heard of them."

There was no indication that she was lying, but Tony didn't think she was telling the truth on who else knew about Extremis. Considering the complexity of the program, there was no way she was the only person on Earth who knew everything about it. There had to be at least one other person.

"Who was your partner?" he asked suddenly, bringing his clasped hands up onto the table. "And don't lie. You had one. You're brilliant, but there's no way you did everything on Extremis. And Fern and Yelksin don't count."

Hansen was quiet for a long moment, eyes fixed on the table. Finally, several breaths later, she looked up. "Aldrich Killian." Her answer was quiet. "He was my partner. He wasn't there when you came because he had another assignment."

"Thank you." Tony stood up abruptly, looking directly at the one-way mirror and jerking his head toward Hansen. "I'd say I hope you have a nice stay, but S.H.I.E.L.D. has lousy facilities."

He stepped out of the small depressing room into the hallway, hearing Steve and Clint step out behind him.

"Well?" he asked Clint quietly, stepping to the side to let the formerly dismissed agent back in to retrieve Hansen. "You get what you need?"

Clint wasn't smiling, but he radiated satisfaction. "Oh yeah. You?"

Tony did smile. "Yep." He turned to Fury, who had stepped out of the observer's room. "I'll get that contract to you sometime in the next couple of days. I've been rather busy."

Fury's eye swept over Tony's figure. "I can tell." He was silent as Hansen left then, guided by the agent, speaking when she was gone. "You know how to contact me."

"I do." Tony smiled sweetly. "And you're welcome for the Wrecking Crew."

* * *

Because Natasha had been hit in the stomach by one of the electricity attacks by Mallen, she wasn't as seriously injured as she could have been due to the heat of the electricity closing most of the wound before she could bleed out. After they went back to the medical bay to check on her status, they found her bandaged up after having been disinfected, cleaned, and given antibiotics in case of infection. She was also raring to check out, glaring daggers at Rhodey since he kept pushing her back onto the bed.

They did check her out, partly because they had a doctor in house who would be able to make sure that she took her meds. (And also because Natasha stared at Tony, promising a silent but painful death if he didn't agree that she was ready to leave.)

When they left, it was to the Baxter Building to pick up Bruce and Spider-Man before heading back to the mansion. Tony needed to run the scans on the recent changes to his body, but he would be back to continue working on the vibranium problem. Richards had looked displeased at being left out of the fun, but Tony had adamantly put his foot down on the matter.

Extremis would remain as classified as possible, free from any other super geniuses who might try to mess with it.

* * *

The moment Tony stepped into the workshop, Steve on his heels, Dummy almost barreled into him with enthusiasm.

_**How'd you like it? Did you like it?**_ Dummy wheeled around ecstatically, spinning in circles. _**Wasn't it totally awesome? The colors were rad!**_

"Where'd you pick up that word?" Tony asked, blinking at the spinning bot.

"The internet, sir," JARVIS reported long-sufferingly. "And may I add, it is good to see you again."

_**Awesome!**_ Dummy agreed, speeding off to his brothers, who were rather more sedate with their enthusiasm at seeing Tony.

"What's he talking about?" Steve asked, blinking after the overexcited bot.

"The suit," Tony said to Steve. The next bit he addressed to JARVIS. "I was surprised to see the new paint job, but it looks good. Were you ever going to tell me?"

"It had been my intention," JARVIS said, "but there was no time."

"Great timing on that by the way," Tony said, smiling so JARVIS could see. "Now, if you could run the scans you did the first time we were checking on Extremis?"

There was a buzz of confusion around him. "Of course, sir."

Steve stepped back as Tony moved forward to the center, allowing the blue lights of the sensors to scan across his body. When it was over, Steve moved up to Tony's side as he took a seat on a table, waiting for the results.

Tony glanced askance at Steve, only to find that the man was already looking at him. "Something wrong?"

Steve shook his head. "No." He moved as if to touch Tony, but stilled a moment later, turning to look straight ahead, jaw set.

Confused and a little bit hurt (or maybe a lot hurt), Tony focused on his shoes. They were black and shiny, very nondescript and calming to look at. Or boring. Yeah, they were ridiculously boring.

Thankfully, JARVIS announced that the scans were done and displayed the results.

The first thing Tony said was, "Hey, I gained weight."

"And skeletal mass," JARVIS added. "What I see should be impossible, sir. You should technically be dead."

"But I'm not," Tony said sharply, feeling Steve stiffen at his side. "It's Extremis, so let's toss out human norms and go with what we've got here."

"Which is nothing that has been seen before," JARVIS pointed out.

"But there aren't any dangers?" Steve asked.

"No more so than with that serum of yours," Tony remarked. He moved to take off his suit jacket. "Let's run the scans again with the suit."

Stripped naked, Tony closed his eyes, breathing out slowly as he focused on calling out the suit. Because he was paying attention this time, he could feel the difference as his skin was covered by metal and shielded from the cool air of his workshop. But this time there was no indication of anything sliding out of his skin, which was probably for the best since he'd be otherwise distracted by the sensation.

When he opened his eyes, it was to look through the HUD. He flipped the faceplate up a second later, glancing over at Steve, who seemed to be rather wide-eyed at the sight.

"JARVIS?" Tony asked.

"Computing results, sir. It is rather fascinating. Is this a new development?"

"Happened when I was taking on the Wrecking Crew," Tony admitted. "But it happened before when it absorbed the arc reactor when I was initially injected. What've you got?"

"It is rather unlike anything I have seen before," JARVIS said, letting the results appear on blue screens all around Tony. "It would seem that the suit collapses to a more compact form to fit within your skeletal structure, liquidizing to come to the surface before it forms over your figure."

"Interesting." Tony slid the faceplate back down, lifting a hand. "Run the scans; I'm gonna fire a blast at low power."

He made sure to aim in the direction where he'd once tested Clint's new arrows, noting how easy it was to calibrate the power of the repulsor with just his mind. He flipped the faceplate back once he was done, watching as the numbers blurred in the air in front of him.

"Fascinating," JARVIS said, doing an excellent Spock impersonation. "It would seem that the power source in your chest is powering the suit."

"Wasn't that what it's supposed to do?" Steve asked.

"Initially, yes," Tony said. "Along with powering my heart and keeping shrapnel out of it. But its purpose has changed. Technically, there really wasn't any need for Extremis to keep it; most of my suits"—he gestured at the display of older models—"have their own power sources. Which is why Spider-Man was able to use one when JARVIS was piloting it."

"So why did it keep it?"

"We can only hypothesize, Captain," JARVIS answered for Tony. "Judging from the results, it would seem that it is being used as a power source for whatever it is needed for."

"What happens if this runs out of energy?" Steve asked tensely. "You don't have a backup."

"I don't think it's running my bodily functions." Tony couldn't help but smile, retracting the armor as he did. "But I'll keep an eye on it. JARVIS, make a note for research into fabric that Extremis might absorb. I can't keep stripping every time I need to use the armor."

"Done, sir."

Steve handed Tony his pants. "That's it?"

"For now." Tony waved a hand to discard all the holographic screens. "We should go talk to Clint, see what he picked up from Hansen and with Natasha."

Inclining his head in agreement, Steve handed over the shirt, which Tony put on but didn't button up. He was going to need to shower in any case to get the feel of hospital off his skin.

Bidding his bots a farewell, Tony led the way upstairs to the living room where Natasha had been deposited on the couch, the TV delegated to her for her entertainment.

"Well?" Bruce asked when they'd passed the doorway.

"I have a clean bill of health," Tony said dismissively. "JARVIS'll send you the results later." He turned to Spider-Man, who was hovering rather uncertainly on the fringes of the room. "I let Happy know about your aunt after we left the hospital; she should be fine."

Spider-Man visibly relaxed, nodding once. "Thanks."

"No problem." Tony shrugged.

"Clint, what did you get from Hansen?" Steve asked.

"Exactly what I needed," Clint said, sharing a triumphant look with Natasha.

"We did some digging," Natasha said, taking over from Clint. "Found out that Hansen had help with manufacturing the Extremis program. We weren't sure who because that was buried under layers of security that even we couldn't crack without revealing ourselves. But he was closely linked to A.I.M., possibly closely enough to know that you're a mutant."

"So Aldrich Killian is responsible for letting the cat out of the bag." Tony interlinked his hands in front of him, his suit jacket dangling over an arm. "Do you know where he is?"

"Like she said, we couldn't get to his identity," Clint said. "But we did trace something back to New York, so we're assuming he's here." He nodded at Tony. "What about you?"

"The Wrecking Crew had devices on them that inhibited Extremis," Tony said. "Hurt like a bitch, but I managed to destroy them. Seeing as how Hansen was supposedly the only one who's fully aware of what Extremis is capable of, I needed to be sure."

"Question," Spider-Man said. "I think Hansen said something about dying if Extremis is shut off. Should that be a problem?"

"It wasn't shut off. It was hibernating." Tony made a face at the memory. "Or something. It was probably similar to an EMP, but I can't figure out more without actually studying the device. And since I lost it when the suit tore through my clothes, I can't look at it."

"What's the probability of S.H.I.E.L.D. having it?" Bruce asked, looking over at Clint and Natasha.

"Depends on what they were aware of," Clint answered. "Right now Fury's the only one with the clearance to know Tony's got Extremis. And depending on the size, they might not have found it; there was a lot of debris in that area from what I saw in the news."

"I have another question," Spider-Man ventured. "Who's the guy with the weird hairdo that's looming in the doorway like Slender Man?"

"You're one to talk, bub. What's with the outfit?" Logan stalked into view, sliding to a spot by the doorway and leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

"They're the only clothes I have! My house blew up."

"Tell JARVIS your sizes," Tony said. "He'll get what you need."

"I really shouldn't…"

"You should." Clint was grinning now. "You're an Avenger now, kid. Means you're on our payroll."

"What's with the statue by the TV?" Logan asked, pointing to a very silent War Machine. If Tony didn't know better, he'd say Rhodey wasn't even in it.

"Rhodey," Bruce explained shortly, glancing over.

"Rhodey?" Tony called, giving the armor a short push with his telekinesis.

The faceplate slid up a few seconds later, showing a rather disgruntled Rhodey. "I was watching you guys. Can't a man just stand in silence in peace without being aggravated?"

Tony squinted at him, bursting into a grin a moment later. "You dog! You fell asleep, didn't you?"

Rhodey sighed, but didn't deny it. He also didn't explain why he'd fallen asleep in the suit in the first place.

"He and Logan were up all night," Natasha said, reading Tony's unspoken question in his face. "Playing strip poker."

Tony opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Bruce shaking his head and warning, "Don't ask, Tony. Don't ask."

For once, Tony decided to take his advice. There were always the security cameras if he really needed to know, though he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to see Logan naked.

* * *

Later, after he'd showered and Steve had changed out of his bloody uniform to shower as well, he relaxed on their bed and wondered what was wrong. Steve didn't seem like himself, and Tony didn't know what was wrong. He didn't like it.

When Steve came out of the bathroom, wet hair tousled and sweatpants riding low on his hips (and Tony's body _ached_ with want), Tony shook himself out of his reverie and focused on the matter on hand. But the words wouldn't come out. His tongue felt too heavy, so all he did was slip under the covers and lie on his side to face Steve, chest tight with an unnamed emotion.

Several minutes, silence still lay thick and uncomfortable over them, and Tony still didn't know what to do. Steve was on his back, staring stubbornly at the ceiling, and if Tony didn't know better (did he, really?), he'd say Steve was trying to avoid him.

But he needed to say this. If he didn't do it now, he would never. And then where would they be?

Taking a small breath to fortify himself, he asked quietly, "Is something wrong?"

Steve didn't jump, flinch, or startle in any other noticeable way. He did blink and roll over to face Tony, sliding a hand under his pillow as he did. His face was tense. "Tony…" The word was a mere breath.

"No, really." He took the plunge (because there was really no other word for it; he didn't _do_ touchy-feely conversations). "Is there something we need to talk about? Because I don't think we've been this awkward since high school, and I didn't even _know_ you then aside from Howard's stories, which weren't the best let me tell you – mmph." He was shut up by a pair of warm lips pressing against his own, swallowing whatever else he would have said.

When Steve drew back slightly, he pressed closer bodily, wrapping an arm around Tony and pulling him close so that they were pressed from chest to feet, legs tangling together so that neither could escape easily. Then Steve ducked his head and pressed his face against Tony's neck, breathing in shakily.

Blinking, it was all Tony could do it register this very rapid about face that didn't make a lot of sense. "Okay. So we don't have something to talk about? Because don't get me wrong, I'm all for hugging. And cuddling. I'm a hedonist at heart, you know me, but I'm kind of wondering what's up here."

There was silence for several more moments, the air simply filled with the sound of their breathing and the humming of the technology around them.

Finally, Steve sighed once again, his breath a warm rush against Tony's skin. Then he drew back, sliding up so he was looking Tony directly in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, bumping noses with Tony.

Tony blinked again, disconcerted. "For what? Because I can understand being a bit freaked out about the suit being in my bones."

There was a short huff of laughter. "For acting like a jerk earlier today. I was terrified, Tony. I didn't know what was going on with you, and then we had Mallen to take care of. I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that you were fine. If I'd touched you then, it wouldn't have mattered where we were; I wouldn't have let go."

"No objections from this end." Tony waggled his eyebrows, pleased when he elicited a grin that was a shade lighter than the laugh had been.

The lightness disappeared a moment later when Steve sighed (again; Tony was going to need three hands by the end of this conversation). "And then I didn't know what to say to make it better. It just seemed to be spiraling out of control."

Tony wet his lips, then offered quietly, "If it helps, it wasn't too bad. I mean, I got it."

"It was bad," Steve disagreed, gently squeezing Tony. "But thanks for trying to make me feel better."

"I'll have to go back to Richards's," Tony pointed out softly. "We're not done yet, but really close."

"Really?" Steve's smile was full with an emotion Tony wanted to identify as love, but didn't quite dare. "Tell me about it."

"Yeah. All right. But if you fall asleep on me…"

"Tony."

"Okay, fine. So we figured out it's vibranium we're looking for…"

* * *

The next morning found Tony very well rested after a night sleeping with Steve. Judging from his partner's sleepy smile when he woke up, Steve felt the same. This was followed with a bout of shower sex before they went to the kitchen for breakfast.

The wedding march heralded their arrival, earning them a grunt of good morning from Logan as he registered their entrance. He was clutching a beer as if it was his lifesaver, jaw set mulishly as he stared down at the newspaper on the table (the paper was dated from a week ago; Tony decided not to ask as the man was looking murderous enough already).

"Peggy," Steve said as an explanation, which was really all Tony needed to know what was going on (aside from the outdated newspaper).

"You haven't been able to find a song yet?" he asked her.

**_He threatened to gut me. _**The reply was sulky.

Tony turned to Logan, face impassive. "If you hurt Peggy, you'll find out why people don't usually like to cross me."

Logan eyed him for a long moment before acquiescing with a nod, returning his attention to the newspaper.

**_Awesome!_** Without further ado, Peggy jumped into _Barbie Girl_, making everyone present cringe.

Shooting Peggy a glare, Logan snatched up the newspaper and buried his face in it, resolutely ignoring Steve and Tony.

**_Spike's with Spidey! _**Peggy called after the chorus was thankfully over and she'd stopped.

Tony sighed melodramatically, leaning into Steve's side. "Does this mean I have to wait for coffee?"

Steve gave a low chuckle. "You could probably stand to drink a little less, Tony."

"Blasphemy."

"What's blasphemous?" Clint asked, poking his head into the kitchen. His hair was completely mussed up. "Because if it's sex in the kitchen, no one wants that. We eat here."

Tony turned to Steve, starting, "Steve—"

"No." Steve's response was adamant.

"But—"

"No." Smiling in amusement, Steve kissed him on the temple and went to the fridge to start making breakfast.

Huffing loudly while looking pointedly in Clint's direction, Tony sat down at the table, relaxing as the normality of the scene washed over him.

As Steve continued moving around the kitchen, they were eventually joined by Rhodey, Bruce, and Natasha (who glared at anyone who dared suggest she should probably be in bed). Spider-Man was last of all, Spike tagging along behind him. The AI practically squeaked with excitement on seeing Tony, bumped into his head as a greeting, and then sped off to get the coffee ready.

"Are you going to stay in that outfit all the time?" Clint asked, nodding at Spider-Man's uniform. "Because that can't be comfortable."

Shifting slightly in his spot on the wall (he was _sitting_ on it), Spider-Man confessed, "It rides up a little in the crotch."

Rhodey winced sympathetically. "Ouch."

"It's not too bad." Spider-Man seemed to realize no one was buying it. "But, ah…I'm not sure actually."

"We won't tell anyone," Steve said, shooting the kid a smile over his shoulder as he cooked the bacon. "But it's your choice."

"You already know who my aunt is," Spider-Man hedged, glancing at Tony.

"Haven't looked into it," Tony said honestly. "I can be nosy, but your identity isn't something I'll stick my nose into for obvious reasons."

"You are Tony Stark, aren't you?" Rhodey asked suspiciously.

"Shut up."

Spider-Man tactfully ignored the exchange. "I was talking it over with Spike actually. He's a pretty good listener."

There were skeptical sounds from almost everyone in the kitchen. Logan remained conspicuously silent.

"So, uh…I'll be living with you guys anyway. I can't go walking around like this all the time; it'll start stinking. And I really don't want to put a paper bag over my head." Spider-Man brought a hand up to the back of his head, shifting nervously. "And I trust you. So, um…here goes."

They were all watching as the mask was tugged off from the back, the kid's head ducked down so all they saw at first was messy brown hair. Then he looked up, a sheepish grin on his face as his brown eyes flickered over each of them in turn.

"I'm Peter Parker," he said, still grinning, though it now looked more nervous than sheepish.

Clint spoke first. "Holy cow, you're a shrimp."

Natasha reached over and punched him in the shoulder. "He's an idiot; ignore him."

**_Holy cow, he's hot!_**

Tony looked over at Peggy strangely as Steve said before Clint could further make a fool of himself, "Thanks for trusting us. You won't regret it."

Peter grinned again, ducking his head. "I know. It's why I did it."

"You have the whole geek thing going on for you," Tony said, leaning forward and gesturing at him. "I bet you have glasses."

"I did. Don't really need them anymore."

Before anyone could go into the possible implications of that, JARVIS broke in, quiet and urgent. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but you should all see this."

The tabletop flickered to life, coming to an image of a newspaper. The surface was promptly cleared of all obstructions, Logan's newspaper folded away for good and his beer tossed into the trash can without looking over.

Perhaps the first thing to catch Tony's attention was the front page of today's newspaper, and it was maybe a good thing that Logan had last week's instead of today's. The large picture on the front page was of Iron Man's new look. The bold headlines screamed **IRON MAN: CYBERHUMAN?**

Tony had all of a second to think that the shit had really hit the fan now when JARVIS switched the view to a news station.

"_Breaking news live from CNN. We've just received word that Tony Stark – also known as the superhero Iron Man – is not __**just**__ a mutant._" The footage from yesterday's fight played, the reporter speaking over it. "_Yesterday it was thought he was an omega level mutant. But today we have another source offering the solution for how this was possible._" The camera closed in on the suit breaking through Tony's clothes. "_The Extremis program_"—the words played over the screen—"_was used by Tony Stark several weeks ago. Coincidentally – or maybe not? – at the same time as the Great Blackout. We'll have more for you soon on this new development._"

JARVIS changed channels over to another news station, where practically the same thing was being said but with more vehemence considering it was FOX News.

"This isn't very good," Tony said, looking down at the table.

"You think?" Rhodey said sarcastically.

"But we can still spin this around—" Tony blinked as he registered an incoming call from Pepper. "S'cuse me. Pepper's on the line." He answered it. "Pepper."

"_Please tell me you're watching the news right now, Tony._"

"I am. We are."

"_I can't handle this right now. I really, really can't. We're being bombarded with phone calls about your sanity, and the board is threatening a rebellion._"

"Seeing as how I own the majority share, I don't really see how that's possible at this point."

"_Tony—_"

"But I get it. You're swamped. I'll deal with it here."

"_We'll_ deal with it," Steve corrected firmly, squeezing Tony's shoulder.

"Make that we as a team," Tony amended, reaching up to return the squeeze before letting his hand drop. "It'll be okay, Pepper. Really."

There was a tired exhalation. "_I hope so, Tony. I really hope so. Good luck. You'll need it._"

"You, too." Tony closed the phone call, bringing a finger up to press against his temple. Now that he was paying attention, Extremis was going slightly crazy in the background with all the commotion from outside. And without more stringent safeguards he was going to get a mother of a migraine.

"Should we get him?" Clint asked, looking over at Steve. "Because there's really only one person responsible for this."

Tony pulled his hand away from his head. "JARVIS, get me everything you can find on Aldrich Killian. Hack into A.I.M. if you have to, but try not to show your hand unless you need to."

"Understood, sir."

Steve set his jaw. "There's nothing we can do to him that will turn this around. They already know, and he's probably released some of the classified information as well."

"He has," JARVIS confirmed.

"I'm heading back to the professor," Logan said, standing up abruptly. "Call us if you need anything."

"Will do," Steve assured him.

Logan swept out of the kitchen, and Tony wondered how he was going to get back to Winchester without a ride. Then again, it wasn't his problem; Logan had gotten here in the first place.

"So what's the plan?" Rhodey was looking expectantly at Steve.

Steve had barely looked at Tony before Tony said, "A press conference. We're going to need to contain this in some way before it really gets out of control. And considering what's happening up on the hill, it's going to need to be contained."

"A session has already been called to discuss the bill," JARVIS said quietly.

"Okay. That's kind of bad, but still workable." Tony closed his eyes, composed a quick memo, and sent it off to all the major news stations. Opening them, he said, "We've got an hour before the conference."

"Which will be where?" Natasha asked.

"Where it was last time." Tony flashed a smile. "We can't really afford to show any weakness right now, and changing the venue will be seen as one."

"All of us are going," Clint stated.

"Technically speaking," Rhodey said, an apologetic grimace on his face, "I shouldn't. The Iron Patriot is government property, and it would be bad if its pilot was seen with Iron Man right now."

"And Natasha shouldn't be out of bed," Bruce said, "let alone at a conference."

"I, uh…" Peter shrugged helplessly.

"You're still a minor," Steve told him gently. "There's no need for you to come. But I'm definitely going."

"So will I," Clint said.

"Okay, then." Tony couldn't help but feel relieved that he wouldn't have to face the sharks alone. "Let's get ready."

"You're never ready when facing sharks," Rhodey said wisely.

Unable to stop an amused grin, Tony really hoped he was telling the truth when he'd said this could still be turned around for the better.

* * *

The press conference turned out to be much worse than what Tony had expected. _Much _worse. To put it mildly, they were sharks who had scented blood and were coming closer for the kill. Not that Tony would let them do that, of course. It went against the grain for who he was. And Tony Stark didn't let the common horde of reporters run over him.

That said, it still didn't mean he was unaffected by what happened. By the time the conference was over, Steve, Tony, and Clint were all rather frazzled and on edge, even if they didn't show it aside from a few curt words with one another.

_"Mr. Stark! Why did you keep it a secret?"_

_ "What does the Extremis program mean for the Avengers?"_

_ "Why did you take the Extremis program?"_

_ "Were you responsible for the Great Blackout?"_

And while no one had directly asked him the question or stated it, Tony could hear the underlying accusation in every question that had been fired at him: _Why did you kill all those people?_

He couldn't tell them that it had been a mistake – an accident. That he hadn't _intended_ to do it; that he'd just wanted it to be quiet because it had hurt.

He didn't think he could tell anyone; it was his burden to deal with.

Settling back in his seat in the limo they'd taken to the conference, Clint said, "Well, that could've been worse."

Tony grimaced, knocking his head back against the window. "You think?"

"No, you're right. That was awful. Next time I'm wearing a hazard suit."

Steve tightened his lips, apparently not willing to join the banter. "What now?"

Tony sighed, turning his head to look at his partner. "Richards. He's going to need to know the details, and then we have to know what our next move is."

"And S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Clint asked.

"JARVIS is better at multitasking than me, courtesy of being a computer. I've put him on the task of drawing up a contract for me to look at."

"Wow. How hard was that for you to admit?"

"Very, very hard." Tony kicked Clint's ankle. "I know when to delegate if I need to. It just has to be someone I trust."

"And an omniscient butler is your first choice. Got it."

"JARVIS sees all." Tony waggled his eyebrows once before becoming serious again. "We're going to need S.H.I.E.L.D. for this. Much as I hate to admit it, they are rather good at their job when they're not being sneaky bastards, which is ninety percent of the time on a good day."

"Is that a fact?" Steve asked, amused.

"Yes."

"I was one of those sneaky bastards," Clint protested, though it sounded more rote than genuine.

"Still are," Tony said, leaning over to tap against the partition separating them from Happy. "Let us out here, Happy. We've got to talk with Richards."

"You got it, Boss." Happy pulled over to the front of Baxter Building. He didn't get out to help them out, considering that there was a horde of reporters even here.

Sharing expressions of disgust, the three prepared themselves for the bloodbath and stepped out, instantly being mauled by flashes of light and shouted questions that were indiscernible from one another. Ignoring it all, they pushed their way through the crowd, Steve leading the way due to his bulk and rather blank face that seemed to work at scaring off most of the reporters.

By the time they reached the lobby and stepped into the elevator, Tony had had his feet stepped on no less than six times, Clint looked thunderous, and Steve was straightening his shirt from where an overzealous reporter had grabbed it.

"I don't care how it's done, but I'm flying back home. I don't care if I have to grow wings, I'm not walking through that." Clint's voice was dark.

"I could ask JARVIS for a ride," Tony offered, subtly shaking out his right foot. "Or you could just stay here until it clears up some."

"Ben could probably help," Steve said, watching the floor counter change numbers as they ascended. "They usually don't like to stay around him because he tends to step on feet."

"Probably safer than a pair of wings," Clint conceded.

When they stepped out onto the floor where Tony had spent most of his waking hours the last week, it was relatively silent except for the technology humming and the quiet murmur of voices as Richards and Jane worked in the center of the room.

Jane saw them first. "Tony!"

Richards turned around. "Extremis?"

"Hello to you, too," Tony said pointedly, moving over to where they had been working, giving the screens a cursory look over. "And, yes, Extremis. It was supposed to be classified, hence why I didn't say anything. That, and you have a tendency to go overboard on shiny new things, so I thought I'd err on the side of caution."

"You?" Jane raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I can be cautious," Tony said indignantly, folding his arms across his chest below his power source.

"It backfired on you," Richards pointed out.

"When it comes to the common mass of people, things usually backfire on you," Tony answered. "Or haven't you noticed anything at all in the last couple of years?"

"True," Clint called, having wandered over to the still shattered windows to look out at the skyline.

"It was a classified mission," Steve explained briefly. "The details on Extremis were never supposed to be released to the mass public."

"Technically not entirely true," Tony disagreed. "It came to Pepper's desk because it was a research proposal. But it was buried behind a lot of red tape. It's just been classified because of recent developments."

"Not very classified right now," Jane pointed out dryly.

"Which is what we're working on," Steve said.

"You look like you're several steps behind whoever's pulling the strings," Richards said bluntly. "You can't contain this much damage, Tony. Something's going to give."

Tony gave a tight smile. "Isn't it our job to contain the damage that can't be contained?"

"Or at least avenge it if it gets too out of hand," Clint added, coming up behind them to peer curiously at the blue holographic screens hovering over the tablets on the ground. "I thought this wasn't released yet?"

"Prototypes." Tony turned back to Richards. "What've you got so far on the Bifrost?"

"Nothing yet," Jane answered. "We did sleep last night, Tony."

"Did you?" Richards looked surprised.

Steve groaned softly, shooting Tony a look that told him he had better not be following Richards's lead when it came to sleeping.

"I sleep," Tony said defensively.

"He does," Jane assured Steve. "He's pulled one all-nighter, but so have I." Her sharp eyes landed on Tony. "What does exactly Extremis do?"

Tony didn't sigh, but it was a very close thing. "It essentially turned my brain into a computer. I can connect to any type of technology."

"So the Great Blackout?" Richards sounded curious.

Tony smiled tightly, but didn't answer. "I can feel the Bifrost," he said instead. "If I connect to the TV." He nodded to the television, which was right now watching a pair of Asgardians eating what looked like an enormous boar.

Jane frowned for a moment before brightening. "So when you said the bridge was rainbow-colored, you were being serious? You _saw_ it?"

"It might also have been a hallucination," Tony pointed out.

"But you know what this means?" Richards was sounding more excited by the word. "If we can figure out how to get the vibranium to hold its shape and also channel the power of the bridge, we can connect to it from here!"

Tony took a step back to get some distance between himself and this slightly manic Richards. "I'm good, but not that good, Reed. The best we can hope for is me getting in contact with Thor so he knows where we're at."

"Vibranium?" Clint sounded interested. "Isn't that what's in Cap's shield?"

"And in here." Tony tapped his chest. "And what's in the Tesseract and the bridge. It's got fingers in a lot of pies."

Clint grimaced. "That's ridiculously creepy, Tony. Please don't give the cube that mind controlled me limbs."

Tony shrugged, unapologetic. "Vibranium is apparently incredibly versatile. We're just trying to figure out what went into making the bridge along with vibranium."

Sue's tense, worried voice broke into their conversation. "Reed, you need to see this."

Turning around, Tony saw that Sue also _looked_ worried. She gave him a nod and turned around to leave, Richards on her heels.

Sharing a glance with the others, Tony followed. Undoubtedly whatever Richards needed to see would also be important to him. Especially considering what was going on right now.

They ended up in the living room with Johnny and Grimm, both of whom were focused on the television.

Tony ended up behind the couch, Steve and Clint on either side of him while Richards and Sue stood to the side.

The TV was honed in on a man in front of a white building. He was speaking into a mike. "_Taking into account recent developments, we've carefully considered our options. The vote was decisive. The House has passed the Superhuman Registration Act._"

There was horrified silence from the occupants of the living room.

Tony was the first to break it, mouth unusually dry. "Shit."

* * *

"_The problem isn't that he's a mutant and hid it from the public for years! The problem isn't that he keeps hold of a suit of unimaginable destructible power! The problem is that he is __**unaccountable**__ for his actions, getting off scot free because he is a superhero and rich. Where is this going to stop? He needs to be held accountable for his actions!_"

"_He modified his own genetic makeup without a second's thought, causing untold loss of life. And without even an apology!_"

"_He tried to hide it. He tried to hide what he did, lying to our faces that he didn't know what caused our planes to fall out of the sky, our satellites to stop working, our power to turn off, our communications to stop. He __**lied**__. This has to stop._"

"_Letting our so-called protectors run around without being held accountable for what they do is unconscionable. If we don't know what's happening to them, what they __**do**__, how can we trust them? None of us knew what Tony Stark did to himself, not until he revealed himself. What's to stop other people from doing the same, thinking there will be no repercussions for their actions?_"

"_People like Spider-Man or that terrorist can't just come out of the woodworks like that. We would've seen signs earlier. Those kinds of abilities aren't easily hidden. Something must have happened to give them these abilities. Maybe Tony Stark was jealous; maybe he was tired of being the human in a team of people who are more. The point is that no one should be able to __**do **__this. Not without supervision or some kind of higher approval._"

"_It's too dangerous._"

"_He killed thousands of people because of his thoughtlessness!_"

"_Merchant of Death—_"

"_I thought he changed—_"

"_—you can't change a zebra's stripes—_"

"_This is why I approve of the Superhuman Registration Act. God bless America, and God save us all._"

* * *

At day's end, Tony was utterly exhausted. He wasn't the only one. Richards also looked extremely frazzled, partly because they had just spent the better part of the day hashing out a suitable compromise for the SHRA with Steve. They'd finally come to a sort of resolution that might work.

So while Tony had already sent a missive off to the Senate, hopefully to derail them before they could also pass the SHRA, Richards had gotten into contact with the court system, filing a brief. Due to his prior experiences with Doom, he already had some contacts within the legal system, enough so that they would have a fast track to the Supreme Court.

"Never thought they'd be useful like this," Richards had said before going off to get the information he needed.

Hearing Steve say something, Tony blinked blearily, barely aware that he had conked out on the couch. "What?"

Steve was sitting next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Think it'll work?"

Tony exhaled loudly, returning his gaze to the ceiling. "Honestly, I'm not sure. It has to. It needs to."

"If it doesn't," Steve said, "we'll manage. I mean it, Tony."

Tony managed to scrounge up a weak smile. "I know, Steve."

Steve sighed, but said nothing else. "Bed?"

Groaning softly, Tony said, "Please. Between Extremis and this, my brain's fried."

Laughing lowly, Steve shifted his hand to gently squeeze the nape of Tony's neck. "Never thought I'd hear the day where you were eager for sleep."

"It's rare, but it does happen."

"Good to know. Now let's go. We're going to have another long day tomorrow."

* * *

That statement of Steve's turned out to be truer than any of them had anticipated. Come the next morning, the Senate fortunately hadn't yet come to a decision on the SHRA. They had responded to Tony's message, however, expressing some interest in hearing what he had to say (which might also have had to do with the veiled threat Tony had put in there more than anything else).

There wasn't much of an advance on the legal front, aside from the notice that the court couldn't technically do anything unless SHRA was made law or about to become law. Since that side was a dead end for the moment until Congress continued pushing SHRA through, they had turned their focus on the issue of Aldrich Killian and Mallen.

Killian was perhaps less of a problem than Mallen, considering Killian was a human and Mallen was a super powered terrorist who was still at large.

Tony didn't really want to know what Mallen was doing at the moment, but he thought that it couldn't possibly be anything good.

"I'd say we should hit him with everything we've got," Clint declared, "but we tried that and it didn't work out so well. Even Hulk had a tough time keeping him down."

"Speak for yourself," Johnny said, drinking the rest of the glass of orange juice he was holding. "I can't remember the last time we fought someone with fire abilities."

"You blew up half the street," Grimm grunted.

"See? Fun."

"The point isn't to incur property damage," Sue said, shooting Johnny a warning look. "It's to find a way to bring him in without causing unnecessary destruction."

"Considering the guy's crazy strength, I can see where we might have a problem," Clint said. "He's not just gonna come in. He hates the government."

Tony hadn't heard that before. "What exactly did he say to you guys?"

Clint shrugged. "The usual, you know. He's going to smash all of us, kill us before we can defeat him, and a curse on our fathers' houses."

"Really?" Grimm sounded skeptical.

"Maybe not the last bit, but everything else is one hundred percent true."

"He was going straight to the Capitol," Steve said.

"But that's in D.C., not New York City. Where'd he take the wrong turn?" Tony was getting a bad feeling, the kind that usually said things were going to get even worse before possibly (_maybe_) getting better.

"Considering his abilities," Richards said, "we should've seen some sign of him before. People like that don't form in a vacuum."

Clint was silent for five seconds before saying, "How much do you wanna bet that Aldrich Killian has something to do with this? Because I find it too much of a coincidence that the news about Extremis hits the shelves the day after Mallen attacks and the Wrecking Crew has those devices."

"We still need to find him." Steve didn't look at all happy.

Looking down at his tablet, which was displaying the contract JARVIS had drawn up for S.H.I.E.L.D., Tony said absently, "JARVIS is on the ball for that. I can call and ask how far he's gotten."

Extremis pinged at that moment, alerting him to a breaking news forecast. Quickly opening it on the tablet, Tony placed it on the table, heart skipping a beat as he saw what it was about.

"_More news on the Extremis program just in. We have received word that the domestic terrorist known as Mallen_"—footage played of the Avengers against Mallen, freezing on the frame of him hitting Natasha with an electric attack—"_was also enhanced with the Extremis program. There are still questions as to why it has appeared differently on Tony Stark than Mallen, but it is possible that Tony Stark hasn't revealed everything. He held a press conference yesterday, but failed to elaborate further on the Extremis program's capabilities, citing it as classified. Yet we must ask: Is it safe for such a dangerous program to exist? And for people such as Mallen to use it?_"

"Shit." Tony pushed back from the table, letting the news still play. "Okay, that answers that question. Killian is involved."

"You'd think that Hansen would know that her partner was a complete psycho," Clint remarked darkly.

"She's too much of an idealist." Tony couldn't help but remember her fervent speech when he'd been forced to work on the program. "She might have suspected, but didn't want to know."

"Like someone else I can name," Grimm said, giving Tony a very pointed look that he ignored.

"We're not pointing fingers at anyone here," Steve said firmly. "We can't afford to, not with this going on."

"Does this mean afterward is free pickings?"

Tony didn't hear Steve's reply, distracted as he was with Extremis alerting him that Nick Fury was ringing him. "I'm going to the bathroom," he said to no one, standing up.

Noting that no one was following, he went out into the living room, slumping against the wall as he closed his eyes and took the call. "_What do you need?_"

"_We've got Aldrich Killian in custody,_" Fury said without preamble. "_Your AI alerted us as to his whereabouts, and we had someone in the right position to take him in._"

Tony felt relief seep through him, but it wasn't enough. "_Great. Anything else? Can we come in to talk with him?_"

"_We've got already got some answers from him; seeing that Maya Hansen was in our custody did a lot already._" Fury sounded darkly amused. "_For one thing, he provided Mallen with the dose of the Extremis program. For another, it's a different batch from what you've got. Apparently they made some adjustments after you came in._"

Tony bit back the curses he wanted to let loose. It wasn't the time for that. "_Terrific._"

"_It gets better. Mallen is on the verge of hitting the Capitol on his revenge kick. He was a small-time terrorist before, obsessed with taking down the government. Now he's got the guns to back up his vendetta._"

"_I can get the Avengers—_"

"_Don't. Killian assured me that they're not likely to take him down, not with the abilities he has._"

"_Then what do you suggest, Fury? I can't let him do it._"

"_Then don't. He said they can't do it and left it at that, but Hansen was moderately more cooperative once we told her what charges she could be facing if it got out what really happened. She said that another Extremis user would be capable of taking him down, considering they would have the speed to keep up with his own. And who else do we know was injected with Extremis?_"

Tony opened his eyes, glancing over in the direction of the kitchen. It took him all of a second to make his decision, but then it wasn't much of a decision really. His mind had already been made up. "_Where is he now?_"

"_We'll send you his coordinates._" Fury paused for a moment. "_And, Stark? Good luck._"

"_Thanks._" Tony hung up without another word, pushing himself upright. He used his telekinesis to push off the ground, needing to make a silent escape. He couldn't let the others know what he was going to do.

Steve would never let him do this by himself. But Tony also couldn't let Steve join him. Not if he had to do what he needed to in order to take down Mallen. Besides, Natasha had already been injured, and while Steve was miles more durable than Natasha, he was still human. And Tony wasn't. Not entirely.

Besides, this was his responsibility. If it hadn't been for him, Extremis would still be unusable. He'd rewritten the code enough for Hansen to inject him with it and for Killian to adjust it so that Mallen was out there. Indirectly, he was responsible for the ball that had set SHRA in motion.

Really, he was just wiping his ledger clean. Natasha wasn't the only one who had red in it.

It looked like he would always be apologizing to Steve in the end, for broken promises and more.

* * *

The Extremis-modified Mark XII was honestly much faster than any of his other suits, even beyond the specifications he had implemented. He didn't know if it was the power source in his chest that was the difference or how Extremis was just more efficient than anything he could create with his own two hands. Then again, since Extremis was technically him at the moment, it was probably his own genius brain that resulted in the extra speed (yeah, he had an ego; was that such a surprise?).

In any case, it meant that he arrived in Washington D.C. much faster than he would have prior to Extremis. Mallen had already moved from the original coordinates Fury had sent, but updates from S.H.I.E.L.D. made sure that Tony kept an eye on him. Word had already been sent to the local police from Fury that Iron Man would be dealing with the terrorist and to clear the streets leading to the Capitol.

Tony had also been receiving calls from Steve, but had told JARVIS to keep them on silent for now and to make sure that the others couldn't follow. Even if they somehow managed to subvert JARVIS, they would still take time to get to D.C.

"Fingers crossed that this'll go well," Tony muttered, eyes scanning the readouts from the HUD.

"I have every faith in you, sir." JARVIS's tone was reassuring.

"Thanks, JARVIS." Tony narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of Mallen stalking through the streets, which were thankfully empty. "Showtime."

"I would wish you good luck, sir, but you will not need it."

Tony zipped over Mallen and landed, blocking Mallen's path. "You flatter me." He addressed Mallen next. "Mallen, hands up and down on your knees. I'll be taking you into custody."

Mallen sneered; his teeth weren't anything pretty to look at. "Iron Man. Couldn't stay away?"

Tony didn't respond except to say, "Hands up and down on your knees. I don't want to attack you."

"That's too bad." Mallen put up his hands, but offensively rather than what Tony had wanted to see. "Because I'm not budging. I'm going to put down our government one way or another, and you can't stop me."

"You know," Tony said, his own hands up, "I have this thing that when people say I _can't_ do something, I usually make a point to _do_ it. They said the arc reactor couldn't be miniaturized or used for clean energy, and I did it. They said I couldn't be a superhero, and I became one."

"So let me put it this way then." Mallen's hands were crackling with lightning. "You _will_ move, or I'll take care of you."

"And here's another thing," Tony continued, eyes fixed on Mallen's hands. "When people say I should do something, I usually do the opposite if I don't agree with it. Like building weapons when I was in a cave. I didn't agree with that. So if you tell me to move, I'm just gonna stay put right here."

The attack came quickly, but Tony reacted just as quickly, firing his thrusters to get out of the way. Then he fired, not bothering to regulate the power, remembering what the others had said on Mallen's durability. His attack hit Mallen in the arm as he brought them up to protect his face, but did nothing other than burn his clothes off and redden his skin.

"That all you got?" Mallen snarled. "Your team couldn't handle me, Iron Man. What makes you think you can?"

Tony launched himself at Mallen, grabbing hold of his shirt and taking off into the air. He threw Mallen into the ground a few seconds later, using the other's inertia to bury him in the street.

"Because I'm not like the others," Tony said as Mallen kicked off a boulder of rubble. "So, please, Mallen, surrender."

"You can't handle the heat," Mallen shouted, throwing a chunk of rubble that was batted away before even touching Tony. "You stopped making weapons because you couldn't handle knowing that they were killing people. You gave up on our people because you couldn't deal with what was happening. People die when weapons are used, it's a fact."

"Doesn't mean it can't be stopped."

"But you haven't stopped. You've just turned yourself into a weapon."

"Not by choice." Tony swiped his arm sideways, sending Mallen flying across the street without any warning. "Unlike you. How much did Killian have to pay you until you agreed to take Extremis? Or were you so eager for revenge you just agreed without any thought as to what would happen?"

Mallen got up from where he'd been thrown into the side of a building. "The government is nothing but a bunch of old fools who have passed their time. I'm just doing all of you a favor."

"Not much of a favor if no one wants it." Tony had a hand up, ready to release a blast. "You don't have to do this, Mallen. Just come in now, and we can avoid this."

Baring his teeth, Mallen let out a harsh laugh. "You're a naïve fool if you think I'll turn back from this. I've been given the power and the ability to do what I need to. What makes you think you can stop me? Even if you defeat me now, I'll be back. There isn't a prison on Earth that can hold me now."

Tony landed on the ground, repulsors still at the ready. "Actually, there are a few that could. Don't knock 'em 'til you've tried 'em."

Mallen studied him for a moment, face impassive. Then he broke into a fierce grin. "Oh, I see. You didn't stop because you couldn't handle it. You're too _good_. That's why you stopped."

Tony felt like scoffing. "You're more melodramatic than Doom on a bad day. That supposed to be intentional?"

"There's no backup, no one to pull you out of this," Mallen continued, his hands clenching into fists. "Last chance, Iron Man."

Behind the faceplate, Tony smiled grimly. "Like I said before, Mallen. I'm not like the others."

Without warning, he took off, lifting Mallen off the ground simultaneously. Two seconds later, he shot another repulsor blast at him, this one higher powered and more focused than the last. It hit Mallen directly in the chest, sending him flying through a building as Tony let him go.

He followed seconds later, climbing through the wreckage that had been a wall. This time Mallen's shirt was gone, his chest red, and his breathing heavier than usual.

"Give up yet?" Tony asked.

There was no warning save for a sudden crackling before lightning struck him in the centerpiece, hurling him back out of the building. He hit the street with a loud crash, practically buzzing with energy as the HUD readouts showed the sudden power boost from Mallen's helpful attack (though it certainly hadn't intended to be).

Tony had just pushed to his feet when Mallen was in his face again, punching him down into the street and straddling him.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," Mallen said, grinning down at him.

"I'm taken." Tony pried him off with his telekinesis and flung him across the street. "And I don't do that scene."

There was no response. Mallen didn't get to his feet, instead taking off from his knees directly into a dead sprint right at Tony.

Sighing, Tony put up a shield that Mallen bounced off of. Lighting arced out at him, which Tony blocked unthinkingly with a hand. Surprisingly, his gauntlet diverted the attack into two separate streams that went around him. He barely felt the impact, the suit absorbing the little energy that had made it through.

"Lightning isn't the best thing to use against me," Tony said, watching as Mallen clambered to his feet again. Tony began moving in on him, steadily feeding power to the chest RT. "You can still stop this, Mallen."

Once again, Mallen said nothing, clenching and unclenching his hands as if he would like to pummel the shit out of Tony.

Tony mentally invited him to do so.

The mental invitation was taken a moment later, Mallen sprinting toward him again. Before he could reach Tony, the chest RT fired, hitting him in the stomach and knocking him into another building and through the wall.

Waiting for several moment, Tony wondered where Mallen had gone. The answer was answered another moment later when the suit's periphery alarms went off and he looked up to see Mallen attacking him from the sky. Well…you had to give the guy points for creativity.

Extending a hand, Tony stopped Mallen cold shortly before he made contact. "Fancy seeing you here," he said conversationally. With a flick of his fingers, he dropped Mallen onto the ground directly in front of his feet. "You're in over your head, Mallen."

"Sir—" JARVIS was breaking in.

Tony ignored him, his focus on Mallen. "I'll repeat what I said before: turn yourself in and it might just work out for the better."

"Sir, please—"

Mallen suddenly reared up, about to deal a devastating punch when Tony caught it, hand closing around Mallen's fist.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Tony repeated.

"Sir, the Avengers are here!" This time JARVIS managed to finish his statement.

Tony frowned, half of his attention now on Mallen. "What? How?"

"The Captain's override." JARVIS was apologetic.

"Shit. Where—" A punch to the faceplate cut Tony off, Mallen taking advantage of Tony's distraction to attack him.

Before Tony could regroup, Mallen had punched him again, this time directly against the RT. The sensation was enough to force air out of Tony's lungs, his nerves tingling from the force. That was going to need to be fixed pronto. When he wasn't in a fight against a sociopathic would-be killer (or maybe he should just upgrade that to plain killer, because the file JARVIS had pulled up on the guy showed that he had been in this business for a while).

Another swift punch knocked Tony to the ground, and he put his hands up in time to block the follow-up punches. He was frantically scanning the area for any sign of the Quinjet, because that was the only way Steve could have gotten here so quickly.

And then he heard the humming, so familiar that it had just blended into the background. But what couldn't be so easily hidden was the distinctive sound of its engines, and Mallen had obviously heard them, too.

Mouth twisting into a mockery of a grin, Mallen kept his eyes locked onto the eye slits of the Iron Man helmet. As he did, Tony felt something shut off all the Quinjet's programs and kill the engines, immediately quieting the humming. Panicking, he reached out to where he had felt its presence, buffering it enough so it wouldn't crash against the street too violently.

"Oh, a weakness," Mallen crooned, still grinning. "Your team is here, Iron Man. What do you think will happen next?"

"You coming in." Tony managed to keep his voice calm, even as his mind was racing.

Mallen laughed lowly. "I don't think so. I think we'll all have a lot of fun now. You can't stop me from having my way with all of them; you're just one man."

Tony suddenly twisted, rolling them over so that Mallen was under him. "I'm told I'm great at multitasking."

Sneering, Mallen just inhaled before releasing a stream of fire directly into Tony's face. There was sudden crackling as well and then electricity overloaded all of Tony's sensors, sending his heart racing as the power fed into his already overpowered centerpiece.

Flinging himself off to get away, Tony fired blindly at where Mallen had been, pouring most of the power he had just been given into it. The attack made contact as he heard a rather satisfying cry of pain.

"JARVIS, report!" he snapped.

JARVIS's reply was swift. "The team is fine. They are currently exiting the Quinjet; no injuries visible."

Tony just had to turn slightly to see Captain America, Hawkeye, and Hulk approaching them. Of course Black Widow wasn't there, but it was a surprise to see that the Fantastic Four hadn't come and that Rhodey also wasn't there.

Turning back to a panting Mallen, who wiped away a stream of blood from his mouth, Tony said curtly, "You can still turn yourself in, Mallen."

"If you knew what it was like to experience loss, to see your family killed before your eyes because of the government, you wouldn't do this," Mallen said lowly, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet, balancing on one hand as he remained crouched.

_"No, you intimidate them."_

_ "Good God, you're a woman! I honestly couldn't have called that. I mean, I would apologize, but isn't that what we're going for? I thought of you as a soldier first."_

_ "Is it cool if I take a picture with you?"_

_ "Please, no gang signs. …No, throw it up, I'm kidding. Yeah, peace. I love peace. I'd be out of a job for peace."_

_ "Don't waste it… Don't waste your life, Stark."_

"I do know it," Tony said quietly. "A good man I knew, soldiers who protected me with their lives…they died because of my mistakes."

"Do you want to feel it again?" Mallen asked angrily, hands crackling with electricity. "Because I can do it. Your lover-boy and your team will be killed so easily. And you'll know it's because you failed. Or you can let me go."

"Iron Man—"

Tony's world was zeroed in on Mallen, whose mouth was slowly twisting into a smirk. His world slowed down, time creeping by increments as Mallen raised a hand, fingers extending to fire his attack at a person over his shoulder.

Steve.

It was a matter of instinct as he reacted, world speeding up as he did. First was Steve; he threw him back using his telekinesis, flinging him into Hulk's rather surprised body. Second was Mallen's attack, diverted with a blink as he sent it crackling into the sky to dissipate harmlessly. Third was Mallen himself as Tony barreled into him, flying them both down the street to do what he needed.

They hit the street hard, Tony rolling on top of Mallen. "Last chance, Mallen."

Snarling, Mallen kicked his way out from under Tony, ending up on top once again. "You're all going to pay, I swear!"

Clutching Mallen's shoulder so he wouldn't escape, Tony fired his RT at full power. Considering all the electricity Mallen had pumped him full of, it was a lot. The attack blasted a hole directly through Mallen's chest.

Amazingly enough, the man was still alive and spitting, even if his face was white with pain. "That won't kill me, Iron Man. You _can't_—"

Tony set his repulsor directly against Mallen's ear, looking him directly in the eyes, even if all Mallen could see was an emotionless mask. "I'm not a good man, Mallen." With those words, he fired once again, pouring all the power he could into the attack.

With almost no sound, Mallen's head exploded in a spray of fine red mist, settling against Tony. His headless body hovered motionless for one breathless second, then collapsed with a thud against Tony, sliding off slightly to the side.

Breathless, Tony cast him off, sitting upright. He couldn't feel Mallen's blood on his face, but his mind knew enough of how it felt that he couldn't help but shudder in his suit, thankful that the suit hid his reaction from his team.

Slowly climbing to his feet, Tony waited silently as his team approached him, Hulk snorting in displeasure at the fight having been taken away from him. Clint had his bow out and an arrow ready, and his face was carefully blank, eyes flickering from Tony's figure to Mallen's headless corpse. As for Steve…

Steve's lips were pinched, and Tony could see him breathing heavily (panic or exertion?). What was exposed of his face was even whiter than usual, so that meant he had probably been panicking for however long Tony had needed to take on Mallen.

Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, Tony offered, "He's dead."

"Yeah," Clint answered. He relaxed, sliding the arrow back into his quiver. "The lack of a head kind of gave that away."

"I did have a reason," Tony said again, looking right at Steve as he said this.

Steve didn't say anything, but did exhale loudly.

Sensing that now wasn't the time to talk about this, no matter how badly he wanted it, Tony bit his tongue on whatever else he needed to say. As he did, the distinctive humming of the Quinjet – another one – filled his senses. He looked up to see where it was coming from, seeing it slowly approach and ready itself for landing.

When it landed, the ramp descended and a person stepped down. The sight caused all the Avengers to freeze.

"No fucking way," Clint said eloquently.

Steve's mouth snapped shut in an obvious effort to restrain himself from shouting. Tony was less inclined to stop his mouth from running off in a litany of colorful swears, but did so in favor of stepping in front of Mallen's corpse; S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't going to get its hands on it.

Tony calmly spun around and fired up both blasters and the chest RT to annihilate what was left of Mallen's corpse, destroying what was left of Extremis. Then he turned back to the person at the foot of the Quinjet, voice quiet with restrained anger as he said, "Fuck off."

The person sighed. Then: "Afternoon, gentlemen," Agent Phil Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division said.

* * *

"You mind telling me why the _hell_ you didn't tell us earlier that he _wasn't_ dead?" Tony demanded furiously, gesturing at Coulson as he glared at Fury. "Or did it just slip your mind? Oops, I forgot that Agent Coulson was alive?"

"It was classified," Fury said calmly, not blinking in the face of Tony's wrath. And considering Tony was still in a suit of death, that was commendable; but Tony wasn't feeling very charitable right now.

"Classified." Tony snorted with disgust just to show what he thought of that.

"We couldn't risk the information leaking," Fury explained, sharing a look with Coulson. "He was undercover with Hansen and Killian, investigating the Extremis program. He was the one who brought Killian in when your AI found him."

"And he's the one who was keeping an eye on the program as a whole?" Clint asked, arms folded across his chest, an unhappy expression on his face.

"Yes," Coulson answered, hands clasped in front of him. He seemed utterly unrepentant as to what he had done for the last year and some months.

"Fan-fucking-tasting," Tony said. "Are there any other secrets you're hiding under that coat of yours, Fury?"

"Plenty," Fury said evenly, "and only one of which is any of your business."

That made Tony pause, eyes narrowing as his mind whirled through possible options. "What?"

Fury held out a hand. "The contract, Stark."

Rolling his eyes just to show what he thought of Fury's demand, Tony accessed the contract JARVIS had drawn up and which he hadn't needed to adjust. He mailed it to Fury's address. "I don't have a hard copy on hand, but I did just send an e-mail. Print it out."

Coulson touched a finger to his ear, quietly ordering someone on the other end to do just that.

"I understand the need for secrecy," Bruce said, sounding remarkably calm for a man who had only recently downsized from being a green rage monster who had been more disappointed than angry a scant half hour ago, "but if something endangers one of us, we would like to know. It doesn't exactly make me happy." He smiled dryly, inclining his head down to give Fury a _look_.

The look served its purpose in a way that only Bruce Banner could achieve. "You'll get the details once the contract's signed. Then my ass is safe, and you don't want to know what'll happen otherwise."

Tony narrowed his eyes again, eyes flickering between Fury and Coulson. He'd suspected before that there had been more going on behind the scenes than he was aware of, but hadn't had it so blatantly shoved in his face until now. In hindsight, it didn't make all that much sense for Fury to detain Steve and the others when he'd been kidnapped by A.I.M. Unless he had an ulterior motive that had been served by the short delay.

Either way, it would probably end up with a Captain America who was even more pissed than he was right now. Steve hadn't said a word since getting on the Quinjet with Coulson.

There was a thick uncomfortable silence as they waited for the papers. Thankfully, it didn't take too long before an agent dropped the papers off and left, leaving a pen behind.

Fury looked over them, eye scanning the fine print.

"You can make adjustments if you need," Tony said. "I reserve the right to make my own after."

Surprisingly, Fury didn't take too long to read through the proposed contract. "You're not trying to screw us over, Stark." His mouth curled into a grin. "I like that." He took the pen and signed, handing it over to Tony a moment later.

Frankly, Tony was slightly stunned. He honestly hadn't expected Fury to accept the first draft. It looked like JARVIS had done an exceptionally good job this time; Tony would have to do something for him.

He let the gauntlet on his right hand sink back into his body, quickly scribbling his signature before covering his hand again.

"I'll be the director's witness," Coulson said, stepping forward.

A moment later Steve did the same for Tony, lips still pressed together in what Tony assumed was disapproval (of what, he wasn't exactly sure). His frame was tight with tension, and Tony just _knew_ there was going to be some sort of blowup soon. Hopefully not before they'd vacated S.H.I.E.L.D.'s premises because Tony didn't really want to air his dirty laundry in front of a spy organization.

Nodding sharply in approval, Fury called for Hill to take the contract and file it. "I want the room under a complete blackout," he instructed her. "No recordings of anything going on here. Is that understood?"

"Clear, sir." Hill nodded sharply, locking eyes with Tony before leaving, a brief smile crossing her face as she turned.

A few minutes later the windows into the room all opaqued and Tony could feel most of the surveillance electronics shutting off.

"Take care of the ones that are still online," Fury said shortly, looking directly at Tony.

Tony raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. Reaching out with Extremis meant it was easy enough to make sure whatever remained was quickly shut off. Then he was just left with the general humming of the Helicarrier's tech and some awareness of JARVIS's presence, who had apparently left a remnant of himself in the system.

"Done," he announced. "You gonna tell us what has your panties in a twist now?"

"The Council," Fury said. "I'm sure you know who they are."

"The head honchos behind S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Clint asked.

"The ones I report to," Fury confirmed. "They've been keeping an eye on our activities ever since Loki. A _very_ close eye. We've got something on them, but they've got something on us, too."

"SHRA." Steve's voice was filled with utter conviction as he spoke for the first time.

"Correct, Captain. They weren't the brains behind the bill, but they are responsible for most of the muscle that's supporting it."

"So you pushed me to separate the Avengers from S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony realized, feeling slightly stupid now.

Fury shrugged unapologetically. "Your mistrust of us went a long way, Stark. It helped. So did what happened later with A.I.M."

Tony closed his eyes, mouth dry as he took in what this meant. He felt duped and very stupid for having played right into Fury's hands. And also furious, because Fury didn't have to deal with having killed thousands of people just like that; that was all on Tony.

Opening his eyes, Tony pointed out, "It was also what gave them the final push for SHRA."

Fury waved a dismissive hand. "It would've happened one way or another. Killian was just setting in motion something that's been a long time in coming. It means that something _else_ can also happen now."

"You're in a unique position, Stark," Coulson said. "You're a well-known face everywhere in the world, and now you've been outed as a mutant. Do you realize the magnitude of this? No other mutant has ever been in this kind of a position before. Not even Charles Xavier is so well known."

"You're saying he can start pushing for reforms to better integrate mutants into society," Bruce said.

"Right in one, Doctor," Coulson confirmed.

"That's great," Tony said sharply, "but you're forgetting the giant boulder on the hill that's SHRA. It's coming, and I'm not going to be able to stop it by myself."

"You've been busy," Fury said factually. "The Senate is willing to consider the proposal you, Richards, and Rogers came up with. It's a matter of getting enough support from outside as well so the House also agrees. It's a major change from the original bill, and not everyone's going to be happy." His tone made it clear he was talking about the Council.

"In case you didn't notice, sir"—Clint sounded highly sarcastic on the last word—"the outside world would rather lynch Tony Stark than listen to what he has to say."

"That's harsh," Tony complained. "They tend to want to lynch me even on a good day; it'll get better."

"Your perception is skewed," Clint informed him, "and as such your statement can't be used."

Rolling his eyes, Tony put up his hands to signal he'd be quiet. He'd rather get this over with quickly and go home.

"Stark is right," Coulson surprisingly said. "Public opinion changes quickly. In fact, it's already becoming more divided than what it was this morning, courtesy of your fight." He smiled knowingly at Tony.

"Let me get this straight," Steve addressed Fury, "because I'm not sure I entirely understand what you're trying to do here. Are you trying to pass SHRA?"

"Not in the form it's in now," Fury said. "But something is going to be needed, if not now, then eventually. Stark can tell you what I mean."

Steve, Clint, and Bruce looked over at Tony, eyebrows raised in inquiry.

Tony sighed lightly, but obliged Fury. "The way the superhero community is now, it's a matter of time before something blows up and we have a major backlash on our hands. We've been lucky so far. The few amateur superheroes who crop up out of the woodworks – like Spider-Man – have done a good job. But like Mallen showed, that's not going to last forever. We're going to have bad superheroes coming out, and we need some way of making sure that we can keep an eye on them or have some sort of system in place to catch them.

"SHRA as it stands now is too intrusive. We don't know what the government has in store for anyone who registers, but Richards tells me it isn't good. The goal is compromise: give the government what it wants while making sure that our own interests are safe."

"Exactly," Fury agreed. "And you've been doing it so far. Keep at it."

"What about you?" Clint asked.

"Keeping the Council busy so they don't look too closely at what's happening. The Senate's going to call a meeting to discuss that proposal you drew up. If I were to guess – and I'm not a guessing man – it's going to end up in the hands of the court."

"Richards already asked," Tony said. "They said they can't do anything unless SHRA is close to passing or already made into a law."

Fury grinned smugly. "I've got a hell of a lot more strings to pull than Reed Richards, Stark. You'll have a hearing on the legitimacy of SHRA in the next couple of months. You'll have a meeting with the Senate before that."

"And A.I.M.?" Tony asked, because he had to be sure.

"We've got agents on the inside," Coulson said. "I was one of them." His lips twitched into the semblance of a smile. "Because you took care of M.O.D.O.K., the leadership fell into the hands of his son."

"M.O.D.O.K. had a _son_?"

"Not the way we do it," Coulson assured him, interpreting Tony's disgust correctly. "But he is the biological son of M.O.D.O.K., and right now he's in charge of A.I.M.'s operations. He's not half as crafty as his father, which is for the best considering what M.O.D.O.K. was capable of."

"And Killian was operating under his instructions?" Bruce asked.

"At this point we can't be sure whether Killian did it under his own initiative or under orders." Coulson shrugged, hands still clasped in front of him. "Either way, he's not getting any more orders from that end."

"He wants to talk to you," Fury said to Tony, nodding at him. "It's up to you."

Tony glanced over at the others, receiving shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Let's find out what he was thinking."

"He didn't tell us much," Coulson warned. "He's probably just going to gloat."

Tony looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you upset? Because you sounded upset there."

Coulson sighed, rolling his eyes in that subtle way only he could. "If you'll follow me then."

* * *

By the time they made it to Killian's room, which was really a rather comfortable cell with one wall that was entirely windows (also the same one looking into the Helicarrier; he didn't have a view), Tony had taken off his helmet, wanting a full field of vision rather than the restricted range he'd had.

"Your conversation will be recorded," Coulson informed him a short distance away, "but you already knew that."

Tony didn't bother to say anything beyond a faint hum to acknowledge that he'd heard. His eyes were fixed on the room where Aldrich Killian was in; the man had seen them approach and was leaning against the glass partition separating him from the main hallway, watching them with a half-smile that seemed very smug for a guy behind a glass wall.

"I've got it from here," Tony murmured, continuing onward while Coulson remained behind, turning his back to give them some semblance of privacy.

As he approached Killian, he came up directly to the glass, only two feet separating them. There was a minute of silence, during which Tony's eyes didn't leave Killian's.

Finally, Killian smiled and said, "Mr. Stark. It's an honor to meet you."

"I can't say the same."

Killian chuckled. "You know, I've always wanted to meet you. You're a legend in my field of work. And here you are. Pity it's like this."

Tony smiled back. "Never heard of you."

Killian chuckled again. "Too bad." He hadn't stopped smiling.

"You want to get to the point? You wanted to talk to me, so I assume you have something to say other than how much of a fan boy you were. Are." Tony smiled again, pleased to see that Killian's smile faltered.

"All right, Mr. Stark." Killian shifted to place his arm against the glass above his head, leaning against it. "Let's talk shop: the Extremis program."

Tony didn't blink. "What about it?"

"It's a marvel, right?" Killian grinned. "It took a lot of work to get to where we were when Maya took her work to you."

"I hadn't noticed." Tony grinned to show he wasn't serious.

Killian grinned in response, eyes brightening now. "Amazing, right?"

"You're right. It is amazing." Tony smiled, eyes flickering down as he considered what to say next. "But that begs the question: what were you thinking when you injected a guy like Mallen with it?"

"Now, see, that's where it gets good." Killian's smarmy grin was back (Tony really wanted to punch it). "There were always different batches of Extremis. Maya brought you the one that would get your attention, considering your suit." His eyes scanned over Tony's armored form.

"Consider my attention caught." Tony smiled charmingly.

Killian laughed. "You're a charmer, Mr. Stark. Did you ever wonder how we obtained the ninety-eight percent fatality rate?"

Tony didn't hesitate, although he was beginning to get a sick feeling. The files Maya had given him hadn't had that info. "I assumed it was through simulations."

"Experiments." The word was crisply enunciated. "We had eager volunteers willing to try it for science."

Tony was unable to stop horror from showing on his face. "The program wasn't even complete! Why would you do that?"

"_Maya's_ program wasn't complete. Mine was simpler; you saw my handiwork earlier today, though I used some of Maya's coding for him."

"How many different versions of Extremis did you make?" Tony demanded.

"Just the two." Killian's lips quirked. "Or three, really, since my original version wasn't intended to link into technology. Your beautiful coding allowed me to do so."

"Apparently that wasn't all it allowed you to do, since you were so inept you couldn't even decrease the fatality rate without my help."

Killian burst into peals of laughter, abruptly breaking off several seconds later. "Did you ever wonder why all previous attempts at replicating the super soldier serum failed?"

"I assumed it was because Erskine was a genius and didn't leave any notes behind." Tony smiled broadly. "Smart man. I'll have to take a leaf from his book and do the same."

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Stark." Killian leaned in close, so close that if it weren't for the glass he'd be leaning into Tony's personal space. "It's a quirk of genetics."

"Genetics."

"That's right." Killian grinned delightedly. "You know, every other test subject we used didn't survive past the incubation period. Those that did came out insane, killing themselves shortly after. You're the first successful Extremis user."

It took an effort for Tony not to visibly swallow. "And Mallen?"

Killian's gaze flickered to the side. "Partly successful. The information overload effectively destroyed whatever sanity he did have." He arched an eyebrow. "You're still sane, Mr. Stark. Why do you think that is?"

"I wouldn't know." Tony's words were clipped. "I assume you'll tell me it was because of my genes."

"Your intelligence." Killian smirked; Tony's fingers twitched with the need to wipe it off the bastard's face. "Just like Captain America was the first and only successful recipient of the original serum, you're the only survivor of Extremis because of a little quirk of genetics."

Tony took several calming breaths in an effort not to do something rash, like smash the glass to get at Killian. It didn't really help much, but it did temper his murderous thoughts somewhat. "Is that all? Or are you done?" He inched forward, voice dangerously low as he spoke. "I don't suppose you'll tell me why you gave the Wrecking Crew an Extremis-inhibitor. Or were you hoping to study my body to see what made me successful versus your failed subjects? I also don't suppose you'll tell me what made you out me as a mutant and as a user of Extremis. Were you hoping for some fame?"

Killian flashed a shiny grin, leaning back from the glass as he spread his hands, shrugging. "Orders, Mr. Stark. I'm sure you understand."

"Oh, I understand." Tony smiled tightly. "Maya Hansen was perhaps too idealistic to see what A.I.M.'s ultimate goal was, but you were under no such illusions. I hope you enjoy your time here with S.H.I.E.L.D., Dr. Killian. I hear they have excellent accommodations."

Spinning on his heel, Tony moved away, putting on the helmet again and letting the faceplate down. It had just clicked into place when he'd reached Coulson.

To his credit, Coulson didn't give anything away. "Well?"

Tony looked straight ahead, burying himself as much as he could in the humming around him; he didn't want to think. "I've got to go."

It was just about time for that blowup if his calculations were right.

* * *

No one talked on the way back home. Bruce and Clint could both tell that something was wrong, and neither one was willing to break the silence and risk someone's wrath falling on their heads. In any case, Tony didn't think he could yell at anyone at the moment. He was feeling too sick, a combination of nerves and agitation from talking to Killian and anticipation as to what would happen with Steve.

When they finally did get back, they were mildly surprised to see that someone had brought their Quinjet back. Coulson gave them a farewell nod, slipped Tony his number even though he already had it, and was gone.

Then again, Tony realized belatedly, looking down at the card, the number was different.

Palming the card as he absorbed the gauntlets into his skin, Tony entered the mansion, slowly and steadily making his way to their room. His mouth was dry with nerves, and he couldn't stop his fingers from trembling as he reached out to open the door to the bedroom.

Once Steve closed the door behind him, giving them privacy from the others, Tony absorbed the rest of the armor, rooting around for some sweatpants because he definitely did not want to have this conversation naked.

Hitching the sweatpants up to his waist, Tony tightened them, eyes fixed on Steve's tense form still at the door; he hadn't turned on the lights, letting the blue light from Tony's chest do the work. That couldn't possibly good, right?

"I had a reason," he started uncertainly, letting one hand drop while the other still held the strings of his pants.

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When he opened them, he said calmly (too calmly), "I know you did."

"Then what's the problem?"

Steve's jaw worked. "You didn't tell us."

Tony's laugh was more air than sound. "I'd say there was no time, but that'd be a lie. I couldn't tell you, Steve. I knew you'd want to come with, and I couldn't have that. But you did anyway."

"I won't apologize for using my override," Steve said sharply, anger leaking through his voice for the first time.

"I know you won't. I'm not expecting you to." Tony finally let go of the strings, bringing that hand up to rub the back of his head. "But do you understand why I did it?"

"I'm having some trouble with that."

"I got a call from Fury. It's why I left the room. He told me they'd gotten Killian and what he'd said." Tony took a breath. "They said only another Extremis user would be able to take down Mallen. Do you see any other people using Extremis around here?"

"That makes sense." Steve's tone was even. "But what about you informing the rest of us? We're a _team_, Tony. Why didn't you tell _us_ what was going on?"

"I was thinking about what needed to be done," Tony said fiercely, "and what had happened. Natasha was seriously injured, and you might be more durable, but my suit can take more than any of your uniforms, no matter how much I reinforce them."

"And if you'd gotten hurt? What then, Tony?"

"I was prepared for that." Tony gestured toward the shielded window. "I'm always prepared for the worst happening, you should know that."

"And if something happened and I didn't have your back? How do you think I'd feel about that, Tony? Because if you got hurt and I wasn't there to help – in _some_ way – how do you think I'd deal with that? I was terrified when A.I.M. got you; I had trouble keeping my head on straight. And it happens _again_?"

"I went on my own prerogative this time," Tony pointed out. "No one else's. Mine."

"Fury called you."

"It was my decision in the end, Steve. Fury gave me the information; I was the one who decided what to do with it. I told JARVIS to stop you from following because I didn't know what would happen if you did. You weren't able to contain Mallen before."

"We weren't trying to kill him!"

"There was no other choice!" It was a shout. "Do you think I _wanted_ to kill him? That I went into that fight with the ultimate goal of disintegrating his head? Because I didn't! I went in there knowing that it was an option; that if I absolutely had to, I would. And I took that option when there was no other choice."

"You had him!" Steve's voice was just as loud as Tony's. "You had him right there! You didn't _have_ to do it. We could've brought him in—"

"And then what, Steve? He would've broken out. God knows I've done it enough times _without_ superpowers. You can't contain power like that, not without a price." Tony swiped his hand down emphatically. "And the price was too high. He would've gone for you without blinking an eye. And I'm good, Steve, but I'm not that good." A helpless laugh burst past his lips. "I can't cover all of you while protecting myself."

"Don't you trust us?" Steve asked. "Don't you trust us to be able to protect ourselves?"

"You know I do. I trust you to have my back when I need it."

"So what was that? Why didn't you trust us today, Tony?"

Tony took a shaky breath, barely stopping himself from screaming. "Because I don't trust myself. Not to the extent where I know I can do my job effectively while backing up a team."

"Then you shouldn't have been out there. You should have waited."

"For what? For Mallen to burn the Capitol down? For you to get hurt? I trusted myself to get the job done. If I got hurt, it would've been fine."

"It wouldn't have been!" Steve slammed a hand against the wall, the impact raining some dust and plaster onto the ground. "I already lost everything I loved once, Tony. I can't handle it again."

"You're more than capable of handling it, Steve," Tony said, stepping forward, stopping only when Steve threw up a hand. "Do you know why I did it? Beyond Fury telling me that it was just me capable of taking down Mallen or me needing to protect you? Do you know why? Because you're a good man, Steve. The world needs you. You're as human as they come, and yet you're good."

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

"You give me too much." Tony smiled sadly. "I'm not human, Steve, not in the way it counts."

"And I've told you before, you _are_!"

"In what way is this human?" He extended an arm, letting the armor come out to cover it. "Because I can't think of a single human who can do this. I'm _not_ human, Steve. And if I had to do it over again"—Mallen's head exploding flashed across his mind's eye—"I'd do it again. It was worth it."

"Was it really?"

"The most important thing to me…" Tony took a breath, stepping forward towards Steve. "If I can't protect the one thing I can't live without, then it isn't worth it. That's you, Steve. If I can't…if I can't use what I have to protect you, then it really isn't worth it."

There was nothing but silence in the room for several minutes. Tony didn't take his eyes off Steve, heart pounding as he waited for his response.

When it came, it wasn't what he had expected. Steve turned to the side, one hand falling to the doorknob as he closed his eyes, chest visibly rising and falling.

"Steve?" Tony's voice was soft and he took another step forward.

"Stop." The word was harsh. "Just…" There was a breathless laugh that sounded more like a sob. "I can't… I can't do this right now."

And Steve was gone, leaving Tony alone in their room.

Stunned, Tony staggered backwards, eventually collapsing on the bed when his legs bumped against it. He couldn't stop looking at the last spot he'd seen Steve, seen him leave, seen him say he couldn't do it anymore.

It was just like Pepper.

He broke then, slumping forward to bury his face in his hands. There was no Bruce this time.

* * *

To be honest, Tony didn't remember much of the next couple months. Well, that wasn't quite true. He didn't really _want_ to remember it. It was months of nothing but making sure that their proposal was air tight and keeping in contact with Coulson to be certain everything was going well.

He'd left the mansion that evening, not wanting to run into Steve. By the time he made it to Richards's, it was past midnight. Surprisingly, the Fantastic Four were still up. That made it easy for Tony to tell Richards everything he needed to know.

From that point, it was just a mishmash of talking with various Senators, avoiding the worst of the media, releasing another press conference on the topic of Mallen because he'd been bugged into doing it, and trying not to think about his absolute mess of a personal life. The second day Rhodey had come to join him in the Baxter Building, and Pepper had kept up a flurry of e-mails, texts, and phone calls. Pepper and Rhodey were absolute lifesavers. If it weren't for those two, Tony thought that he would've thrown in the towel by now

Or maybe not, but he would've done _something_. Something that wouldn't have had the "Steve-approved" stamp. Not that he was likely to get that stamp again.

He did see Steve during the Senate hearing. Because the counterproposal to SHRA was just as much his idea as Richards's and Tony's, he needed to be there. It went surprisingly well. The hearing, not the meeting with Steve and Tony.

Despite his better judgment warning him, Tony had been unable to stop himself from drinking in the sight of Steve. He'd looked normal in his Captain America uniform even if he wouldn't meet Tony's eyes. If Tony had been in the suit, there would've been an excuse; but since he wasn't in the suit, there really didn't seem to be a reason for it. Other than the fact that Steve didn't want to look at him.

Sue had squeezed his shoulder sympathetically before he'd left for the hearing, having some idea of what was going on. She'd said nothing, for which Tony was pathetically grateful, but had just offered a silent understanding.

Again, if it weren't for Rhodey and Pepper, Tony would've done something even more insane than usual by now.

As it was, the hearing with the Senate seemed to go relatively well. He'd gotten wary looks from the vast majority of people present, but they'd been perfectly willing to listen to their proposal. He supposed it helped that Captain America was backing it up, since he knew that neither Richards nor himself was exactly well-loved. Especially after the fiasco several years ago when they'd tried to claim his suit. And Richards was just awkward and tended to break into techno babble that Tony understood but left everyone else with glazed eyes.

So Captain America was God sent when it came to selling this.

Now they just had the Supreme Court to weigh in on the legitimacy of SHRA.

* * *

In the hours leading up to the first session of the Supreme Court's hearing of the evidence, Tony was already at the courthouse with Rhodey, Richards, and his family, going over last-minute details.

"And for God's sake, Reed," Sue said, straightening Richards's tie, "don't go blabbing about technicalities. Keep it simple and to the point."

"Right." Richards was looking straight ahead.

"And look them in the eye." Sue patted him on the cheek, smiling gently.

Tony had to look away, swallowing a lump in his throat. That just put him in eyesight of Johnny, and since he was a virtual twin of Steve, that didn't really help with his longing at all.

"You okay?" Rhodey asked quietly.

"Just fine." Tony moved to adjust his tie, only to have Rhodey take his hand.

"Stop. It's fine, Tony." Rhodey squeezed his hand once before letting it go. "I don't think you're fine right now."

"You just said I was fine."

"The _tie_ is fine. You're a different matter altogether." Rhodey was looking at him in concern. "Do you need me to talk to him? I could get the suit."

Tony couldn't help the short burst of laughter. "No, Rhodey. There's no need for that. Honestly, it'll be fine."

"I could punch him," Rhodey offered. "You're my best friend, Tony, and you're hurting right now. You can't blame me for wanting to hurt the guy who hurt you."

"That's not going to solve anything."

"It'd make me feel better. And put a smile on your face."

Tony smiled.

Rhodey promptly grimaced. "No, not that one. A real smile." Just as the rather painful smile dropped off Tony's face, Rhodey said, "Hey, I know what'll help. Let's talk with Logan over there."

"What?" Unable to say anything else, Tony was dragged by Rhodey over to where he realized Charles, Logan, Jean, Scott, and Ororo were standing. For a change, Logan was actually wearing something that resembled formal attire, though it was still a shirt and jeans.

"Professor," Tony said as they reached him. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Charles smiled in response to whatever Tony had in his head (to be honest, he wasn't entirely sure what was going on in there, and he didn't really want to know). "You are one of us, Tony. And this concerns all of us."

"What about the school?"

"Hank's in charge," Jean said. "You didn't meet him during your stay because he was meeting another Hank – Hank Pym."

"Something about particles," Charles said. "I wasn't entirely sure of the matter by the time Hank left."

"You have two Hanks?" Rhodey asked.

"Hank McCoy is our resident doctor," Ororo explained. "Hank Pym is currently studying growth particles; he contacted ours for some research."

"Fascinating." Tony thought about smiling and decided against it, recalling what Rhodey had said about his last smile. He instead tucked his hands into his pockets. "You going to be sitting in the front or the back?"

"Front," Logan said simply.

"Maximum impact," Scott agreed, nodding.

"We don't want to intimidate them," Ororo said, smiling. "But, yes, we'll be sitting in the front."

"Great. I've got a front row seat. So do Reed and Steve."

"It'll be fine, Tony." Charles smile was sympathetic, so he'd probably picked up something on what was bothering Tony.

"Do you know?" Tony asked.

"Nothing yet." Charles tapped his fingers against the arm of the wheelchair, making sure to keep them off the sensors. "But I do have every confidence that it will turn out for the better. You are a very intelligent young man."

"Please don't boost his ego, Professor," Rhodey protested.

"Platypus, honey bear, I don't need to hear what I already know." Tony couldn't repress the grin this time, nudging Rhodey in the side.

"Kitty wishes you the best of luck," Jean told Tony, also smiling. "As does Rogue. They were also inquiring about a flying car."

"Jean," Scott groaned.

"Haven't gotten any progress on that end, sorry," Tony said, amused.

"If you do make a flying car, put me down," Rhodey said, grinning broadly. His eyes held a hint of relief.

"Tony!" Clint's voice distracted him, and Tony turned to see that the Avengers had arrived.

"See you in court," Tony told the X-Men, receiving nods of farewell.

Rhodey followed him, keeping close to his back. "You don't have to do this, Tony."

"It's just Steve," Tony said in a low voice. "I'll be fine, Rhodey."

"And Steve is there," Rhodey pointed out. "Tony—"

Tony stopped then, turning to talk quietly with his friend. "I appreciate it, Rhodey, but I'll be _fine_, okay? I can handle an ex-boyfriend. I'm a big boy now."

Rhodey had a funny look on his face. "So you've broken up?"

Shrugging, Tony looked away to where he could see his team. "I don't know. I'm assuming."

There was a sigh, and then Rhodey tugged at Tony's arm. "Let me know if you need to bail out. Because until Steve gets his head out of his ass, I'm not going to let you torture yourself."

Tony reached up with his other hand to squeeze the one Rhodey still had on his arm. "It'll be fine, Rhodey. Promise."

"You said that last time, Tony, and we blew up the entire house."

"I was drunk." Tony patted Rhodey's hand one more time before shaking it off. "Now let's go."

There was a disgruntled huff from Rhodey, but he did follow Tony, keeping quiet as he greeted his team.

They looked uncomfortable, exasperated, upset, and worried at the same time, which Tony found perplexing. He tried to keep his eyes off Steve, but it was impossible considering that they'd be sitting together in the court room. He did manage to keep his interactions with him to a minimal.

Bruce did draw him aside for a quick talk, but Tony managed to reassure him that it was fine. He didn't miss the tension around Bruce's eyes, or the way the other man glared at Steve when he thought Tony wasn't looking.

"It's not his fault, Bruce," Tony said wearily.

"It's not yours either, Tony."

Tony wisely kept his mouth on what he thought of that. There was a time and place for an argument, and having it in front of a courthouse where Bruce could Hulk out to pummel Steve was probably not the best idea.

Especially if it wasn't even Steve's fault.

* * *

The hearing went about as well as Tony expected. Which was to say…he had no freaking clue what was happening. Various people had been called to take the stand to either rave about how unsafe unregistered superheroes were or to preach that registering superheroes would end up being too dangerous overall, for both the superheroes and the regular humans.

In any case, Tony didn't have much of a clue of what the justices were thinking. They all had excellent poker faces. And his nerves weren't helped by the fact that he was sitting directly in-between Richards and Steve, and he didn't even know how that had happened.

It did help that Pepper and Rhodey were both sitting directly behind him. He could practically feel the silent support pouring off of them. He'd also seen Pepper shooting daggers at the back of Steve's head at one point (if looks could kill, Steve would be very dead right now), but Rhodey had quickly gotten her attention once he saw Tony looking.

The Avengers, X-Men, and the Fantastic Four filled up the first two rows on the other side of the aisle. Peter Parker had slipped into the back at some point, shooting Tony a reassuring grin when they'd locked eyes. He had a camera slung around his neck.

For the most part, the room was quiet except for the people up front who were arguing either side of the debate. Tony's side had a top-notch lawyer picked out by both himself and Fury. The other side had someone Tony didn't really know, but had heard of. Somewhere.

It was about two hours later when the judge called for a short break, following which they would reconvene. Ordinarily they'd pick up the next day, but due to the fact that Fury had pulled quite a few strings, this was going to be a rush job with quite a few meetings packed in a single day. It'd still take at least a week, but it was going to be fast. Tony really hoped that it didn't lead to something being messed up.

He'd gone outside for some fresh air when Steve came up behind him. "Tony."

He didn't jump or do anything else to show how startled he was. "Steve."

Steve looked nervous, and his face seemed somewhat haggard. If he looked closely, Tony could see what were some pretty deep shadows under his eyes, covered up by some makeup that had doubtlessly been courtesy of Natasha.

"Did you need something?" Tony asked evenly. Really, it was a miracle that his voice hadn't cracked halfway through him talking.

Steve's face twisted strangely. "Yeah, um… Tony."

Two could play at that game. "Steve."

"I…" Steve blew out a breath, glancing off to the side as he bit his bottom lip. "The others have been telling me that I'm an idiot," he finally said, looking back at Tony.

"That so." Tony very carefully made sure his face was unreadable.

"I know you're mad, Tony—"

"I'm not." Tony did smile then. "I'm really not mad, Steve. I might've been mad before, but I'm not now."

"I couldn't do it," Steve blurted. "I couldn't. And I'm sorry I bailed, but I couldn't."

"I understand." He didn't, but that was what people usually said. "I get it, Steve. Rhodey's told me multiple times – in great profane detail – that I should get off my ass and call you."

A smile flickered over Steve's face. He didn't say anything, looking away to the side. Following his eyes, Tony saw Clint hitting on Jean and summarily getting glared at by Scott, and Bruce talking with Richards. Ororo and Natasha were talking, and Johnny was apparently having the time of his life picking on Logan while Grimm watched long-sufferingly and Charles talked to him.

When Tony returned his gaze to Steve, his eyes caught on a flicker of light from one of the buildings across the street, Extremis linking into the appropriate cameras and streaming the feed directly into Tony's mind: it was a sniper.

The moment before the distinctive and too familiar noise could sound, Tony remembered what had happened in another world.

_ "Captain America was killed by an assassin directly before he could stand trial, on the steps of the courthouse."_

He didn't really have to think about it. But he'd barely moved before the distinctive cracking sound of a gunshot ripped through the air and splitting pain tore open his chest. He was still reeling from the first shot when there was another crack of gunfire and something hit him again on the right of his chest.

He was dimly aware of hitting the ground, a dull roaring in his ears. He'd thought a sniper would have better aim than to hit Tony, who had been standing several feet to the side of Steve. And, oddly enough, this seemed rather familiar.

Just a lot more painful, and it seemed that someone was screaming in his ear.

"Tony, Tony, open your eyes. Please, love, stay with me. _I need a doctor over here_!"

It sounded like Steve. There was pressure being placed on his chest, making it even more difficult to breathe.

"Pressure on the wounds, Steve. Keep at it." That was Bruce, wasn't it? "Tony, can you hear me? Let me know if you can."

Fingers were pressing at his throat, checking his pulse and making it even more difficult to breathe. Something was choking him, and he spluttered, desperately trying to clear his airways.

"Damn, not good. Steve—"

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it. God, Tony. Please, stay with me."

"Ambulance is on its way!"

"Okay, good. Tony, stay with us. Give us some room!"

"Tony, love, _please_."

It was with great effort that Tony managed to force his eyes open. His breath was still coming too hard; it hadn't been this hard since he'd first had the electromagnet in his chest.

The first thing he saw was Steve's terrified face directly over him. It was the only thing that seemed to be in focus; everything else was blurry.

"Tony, Tony…" He looked like he was about to cry. "That's it. Can you stay with me?"

Tony managed to smile, coughing slightly, the movement wracking pain through his chest. "Totally…" He barely managed to get the word out.

"Tony?"

"…worth…it…"

"Oh _fuck_, not good. _Where's the ambulance_?"

"Tony? _Tony_!"

He fell into the blackness that was tugging at him.

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

That beeping was awfully annoying.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Like, headache-inducing levels of annoying.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Maybe it'll stop.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Damn it. He'd just stop it himself.

The sound immediately stopped, and he was just about to settle back to relax when another sound started, this one much less annoying.

"Tony?" It sounded weary and familiar. "Was that you?"

That sounded like his name.

"If it wasn't you, I'm calling the nurse."

With great effort of will, he managed to move a finger on his right hand. Incidentally, that was also the moment he noticed someone was holding that same hand.

There was a stunned silence. Then the voice – _Steve_ – spoke again, eager. "Tony, can you hear me?"

The smell of antiseptic was reaching his nose. And now that he was becoming more aware, he could hear even more humming around him, though it wasn't bothering him too much. Then his brain registered all the phones in the building, which ones were in use, and what was being talked about.

Twitching slightly as he shut that off, he took a deeper breath, wincing as sudden pain sparked through his chest.

"That's it, Tony," Steve encouraged softly, squeezing his hand. "Come on, love."

What seemed like an eternity later but must have only been several minutes, Tony managed to open his eyes, blinking into the dimmed lights of the hospital room he was in. Judging from his internal clock, it was the middle of the night.

"Tony…" The sound was an utterly relieved sigh, and he turned his head to find the source.

Steve looked completely and utterly wrecked, eyes red-rimmed and hair completely mussed up. His clothes were wrinkled, but seemed otherwise relatively clean.

Tony tried to speak, found that his throat was ridiculously dry and all that came out was a croak, licked his lips, and tried again. "You look like a wreck."

This pulled a helpless smile from Steve, who reached for something out of sight. It was soon revealed to be a cup of what looked to be ice chips. He gave Tony a couple, who took them gratefully, before he started speaking in a subdued tone.

"We almost lost you. Coded five times. It's only because of Extremis that you're here now."

"The…shooter?" His throat was already feeling better.

Steve's face darkened. "A.I.M. Clint got him before he could escape. He's in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody right now."

"And…the court? What happened?"

Steve let out a low huff of air that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "It's all right, Tony. We…we did it. They ruled SHRA in violation of the right to privacy, saying there were other ways to get the same goal without being so intrusive. They're considering our proposal now."

Tony thought that this was done awfully fast. Shouldn't it have taken longer considering he'd been shot right in front of the courthouse? "How long was I out?"

Steve smiled sadly. "Your questions are bit out of order; I thought you'd ask earlier. Two weeks."

_Two weeks_?

Steve could read the shock and dismay in Tony's face, and he squeezed Tony's hand reassuringly. "It's all right. It really is."

Tony's reply was a whisper. "You don't look all right."

The smile on Steve's face faltered for a second. "I'll…" After a moment's hesitation, he shook his head. "No. I'm not."

"D'you…" Tony cracked a smile. "…want to talk about it?"

One ragged exhale later, and Steve said, "Yeah. Tony, I'm _sorry_. I never meant for this to happen."

"Wasn't your fault."

"Not the shooting. Everything else. I should've talked to you earlier." Steve shuddered lightly, clasping Tony's hand tightly. "If you'd died…" His voice cracked.

"Hey." Tony managed to squeeze a couple of Steve's fingers. "I'm still here."

There was a short chuckle. "Yeah. Thank God." Steve exhaled, dropping his eyes to their joined hands. "I was so angry," he confessed softly. "The last time we talked, I couldn't see straight. I was terrified, Tony. I came so close to losing you out there."

Tony thought this was a bit of an exaggeration, but thought that he shouldn't really push his luck.

"Or maybe that's an exaggeration," Steve admitted. "But I thought for sure something would happen. And you didn't _tell_ us what you were doing. I think that more than anything made me lose it."

"Steve, honey, if you think that was losing it, I think we need to work on your perception on what defines as 'blowing your top.' Because you were mad, but I've seen worse."

"I didn't listen to you." Steve's eyes were haunted. "I couldn't. Not at that point. And…I couldn't understand what you did. I don't think I ever will."

"That's why I'm your co-captain," Tony said, grinning lightly. "I have the other perspective you don't."

"I'd say you're more of a private," Steve said, lips twitching into an answering grin.

"Slander." Tony almost laughed, but stopped when his chest reminded him that there was a reason he was in the hospital.

Steve quickly sobered. "I trust you, Tony. I should've told you that."

"I know you do."

"I didn't act like it. I know you can take care of yourself. I just…panic."

"So do I." Tony smiled up at him. "Relationship woes, Rogers."

Steve smiled sadly, his thumb stroking Tony's knuckles. His entire frame was rather rigid, and it took Tony all of a second to decide what to do about it.

Stifling a pained grunt, he shifted slightly to the side, pressing up against the metal rail on the end of the bed. "Come on, Steve." He tugged at Steve's hand.

"Tony…"

"Get in."

Steve swallowed, but did, climbing into the bed so carefully that Tony was barely jostled. Cheating slightly, Tony lifted himself up off the bed enough so that Steve could slide his arm underneath them. Then he resettled, snuggling up as close as he could to Steve's broad chest.

"Better?" he asked softly, resting a hand on the arm Steve had slung over him.

There was another shudder from the frame next to him, and then a low whisper: "Yeah."

Steve tucked his face into the spot right by Tony's ear, just breathing for several long minutes. Tony used that time to investigate the room he was in. It was standard fare for hospitals; the only difference was that it was filled to the brim with Avengers.

Bruce was conked out on a chair, head tilted back in such a way that Tony just knew he'd have a cramp the next morning. He had a fuzzy blanket on him. Clint and Natasha were slumped together by the wall, Natasha leaning her head on Clint's shoulder. Clint had his cheek mashed into Natasha's red hair. Rhodey was stretched out on the only couch available in the room, his knees hanging over the armrest since the furniture was too small for his lanky frame. Even Peter was there in his distinctive Spider-Man costume, hanging from the ceiling in what seemed to be a web.

The only Avenger missing was Thor, and it took Tony a moment to remember why that was.

"You guys camp out here for the last two weeks?" he asked quietly.

Steve hummed an affirmative, nuzzling Tony's hair. "Didn't want to leave," he eventually mumbled.

"Must've been boring, just watching me sleep."

Steve stiffened. "You weren't just sleeping. You…they had you on life support for the first week, Tony. One of the bullets nicked your heart; Extremis spent the last two weeks regenerating it."

Tony mentally wondered why his heart always seemed to get the raw end of the deal. He didn't voice it; even he knew Steve wouldn't appreciate that. "I didn't know."

Steve nodded, face still buried in Tony's hair (shouldn't it be stinking by now?).

"Well…" Tony looked up at the ceiling, gently stroking the skin on Steve's arm. "We're all right now, aren't we?"

"Yeah." The words were a warm rush of breath against his hair. "Yeah, we are."

Steve shifted slightly, moving up so his lips rested against Tony's temple. "Tony?"

"Hm?"

"Would you… I know I don't really have the right to ask you this now, but…do you want to get married?"

Tony froze, mind whirring to a halt. Had he heard that right?

Steve sounded frustrated and desperate at the same time. "I know I don't have the right to ask it of you now, not after what happened. But I love you, and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. And I don't want to wait anymore. Not after almost losing you again."

Tony wet his lips, turning his head slightly to look at Steve, who was looking down at him with hopeful blue eyes. "I'm just gonna ask this because otherwise I might seem like an idiot if I got it wrong. Did you just propose to me?"

"Yes." The response was tentative.

"It might just be me, but I thought you'd be the kind of guy who gets down on one knee with a ring before popping the question. This doesn't seem very romantic."

"I can still do that."

"You don't need to." Tony grinned at him, well aware that he was probably looking a bit like a loon right now. A deliriously happy loon, but a loon nonetheless. "Yes, Steve."

Steve looked rather stunned. "Yes?"

"Yes, I'll marry you. Doesn't have to be next week or even this year, but yes." Tony's grin turned mischievous. "But just so you know, this doesn't make me the bride. I refuse to wear white."

Laughing delightedly (but quietly due to their sleeping teammates), Steve ducked his head for a warm kiss, bringing a hand up to stroke a thumb along Tony's jaw. "I love you," he said, smiling, his eyes bright.

"Love you, too."

Beaming, Steve pressed his lips against Tony's once, twice, three times, and then they were in a permanent lip lock.

It wasn't all sunshine and daisies. He'd still have to deal with the outside world at some point. But at least for now, he was safe and warm in the arms of the man he loved.

And, really, there wasn't anything else he could ask for. It might've taken a while to get to this point, but Tony honestly couldn't say he'd change a thing.

He was really, finally, _home_.

* * *

_**And now a message from the author...**_

**Yeah, so... Remember when I said I was planning on this being the _last_ part of my series? As it turns out, it's not quite done yet. But hopefully part seven won't be 70,000+ words like this one was. Honestly, I wasn't planning on such a tumultuous ride when I started writing the first scene with Tony and Fury and the almost-sex scenes in Part I. Then SHRA decided to butt in and Mallen also decided he needed a say so we have this very long ride that was both fun and difficult to write. (You have no idea how many times I was just staring blankly at the screen wondering what was going to happen next.)  
**

**I just wanted to thank _all_ of you for your continued support through this crazy, crazy ride. And thanks to my new followers as well, although don't be put off if you get alerts saying I'm posting _Danny Phantom_ stories. That _was_ my original fandom before I joined this one. I never anticipated such a reception when I first filled that prompt on Avengerkink last year, but it's definitely helped my writing grow by leaps and bounds ever since I started. So from the bottom of my heart, _t__hank you_. :)  
**

**I now have a tumblr and the link's on my profile. I'm going to be posting regular updates on there as to where I am in my writing, so follow me on there if you want to know how it's going or just in general be amused at my spastic-ness when it comes to life. Periodic updates will also be on my profile here; I have a general announcement about the next couple months in bold at the top, so I'm not going to repeat it here.  
**

**AND NOW for the sendoff! Let me know what you thought!**

**_Stats_: Word Count: **74,566**; Pages: **201


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